


Passion Rising

by RockinRobinB



Category: Passion Fish (1992)
Genre: Chantelle - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 159,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinRobinB/pseuds/RockinRobinB
Summary: Her successful and glamorous career derailed, following an accident that has left her paralyzed, May Alice Culhane discovers giving up on life, at 40 years-old, a bit more difficult than she'd hoped. As she reluctantly adapts to her new limitations, she just might find she still has a life worth living. (Follow on to John Sayles' Passion Fish movie)





	1. 1

**Chapter 1**

There were very few days that year that May Alice Culhane would remember as good.  In part, because she drank so heavily that remembering anything was its own challenge, and in part, because she simply didn’t want to remember.  On a cold day in mid-January that year, 1992, at 40-years-old, she had been involved in a traffic accident that forever changed her life as a fully functional woman.  Two foggy weeks of medications and surgeries had followed, before she first learned the clinical meaning of, “complete T-10 paralysis.”  In the months, and years to follow, she would be forced to also learn the practical meaning behind those offending words.  Not that anyone would be good with such a diagnosis, but for May Alice, it was a death knell, except she didn’t die.  Not for many days following the accident did she cease to be disappointed when she’d awake each morning after every evening prior having willed herself not to.  

Being hurt in New York City had been about her only advantage; if ever there was thought to be an advantage to such an injury.  The medical facilities afforded her in the city were top notch, and she had suffered few of the complications generally experienced by paraplegics in the immediate months of recovery.  She’d had access to the very best surgeons and rehabilitation hospitals available at the time.  By the end of March, the therapists and physicians deemed May Alice strong enough for home adjustment.  In truth, she’d basically stopped trying by mid-month and the staff simply did not know what else to do for the woman.   Depression was common with paralysis victims and returning to familiar surroundings often aided patients over their plateau.  Everyone who knew her assumed she’d return to her apartment in New York City but she surprised them all by disappearing instead. 

Prior to the abrupt end of it, May Alice had a prosperous acting career as a soap opera star in New York City.  With her prognosis and recovery, it was a given that her career was essentially over, but her friends knew she had family money, as well as money from her lucrative career, so, her remaining in New York had been expected.  What shouldn’t have surprised them, however, was her ego.  It, too, had been paralyzed by the accident, and there was no way she would remain where she could be seen in her diminished capacity in that beautiful city.  Later on, friends would learn she’d quietly returned to her childhood home outside of Lafayette, Louisiana.  

May Alice had been content to return to her family’s home to learn how to manage her new, immobile lifestyle in solitude.  Although she had been well known in the parishes both before and after her success in television, she believed that southerners were just so much more polite when leaving one to oneself than New Yorkers were.   Her family being long gone, and she, so far removed from the ways of life there, had fully expected, and liked, the idea that no one would drop by.  She was only slightly correct in that assumption.  Two of her very polite, very annoying, former classmates from high school did happen upon her one day, and there was her old crush, Rennie, and her dear uncle, Reeves, who’d all shown up in the early weeks.  The latter two, were always welcome.

Having also gone through a colorful cast of caregivers in the first week being home, she had all but given up on keeping one.  She wouldn’t have wanted one at all by the end of the week, fully beaten by her ordeals and resigned to just die in peace, but she’d decided the most desirable way, to more actively encourage death, might be through drinking herself to it and for that, she needed someone to buy her alcohol.  Truth be told, she might have one day drank herself to death regardless of the accident, but because of it, she really felt justified.  Still, her vanity had not fully hit rock bottom with the rest of her, and she just wouldn’t stand for the added indignity of dying in soiled clothing.

Chantelle Blades was the last in that colorful cast of replacements, and why she stayed, May Alice was too drunk to care.  Chantelle had her reasons, not the least of which might have been that she was not about to let some drunken, southern white woman break her.  There were many other, less arrogant reasons, but the bottom line, ultimately, was they needed one another.  Chantelle was fighting her own addiction to drugs, and a bad man who introduced her to them.  She needed the job, or more accurately, she needed the pay.  It was her best chance to get her life back on track, and the best way to show her father that she could be a mother to her child again.  She needed to break May Alice, not vice-versa.  If it were even as easy as misery loving company, the women took turns exhausting one another into compliance.

May Alice learned, early in their tenure together, that Chantelle had her own struggle with addiction and that had led, not to outrage, but welcomed, common ground.  The knowledge helped her cope when Chantelle blackmailed her into sobriety by refusing to provide her alcohol.  She also learned Chantelle had a little girl, and that her past troubles had resulted in her having lost custody of the child.  Subsequently, Denita, was living in Chicago with Chantelle’s father and with little hope in sight for her to reunite with her mother.

When Chantelle’s father had called and offered to bring Denita for a visit over the Easter weekend, both women understood the significance.  They’d prepared for, and welcomed the pair.  A Cajun-inspired Easter festival was in full swing in Lafayette that weekend, and they had all packed up and gone to enjoy the festivities.  May Alice, being bound to the sleek wheelchair that had become her new appendage, was still apprehensive about her “misfortune” as she called it, and about being seen in her childhood town so soon after her accident so, she’d requested to be set up away some, from the festival ground.  Close enough to enjoy the music, but far enough from the crowd.  They’d found a shady tree that served both purposes and, once settled, the family trio headed down the hill to the festival.  As May Alice enjoyed the zydeco sounds, she was surprised by the presence of Rennie Boudreaux at her side.

Rennie had been nothing more than a girlhood crush to her, someone she’d all but forgotten in the years between.  But when he arrived on her porch one day, late in March, memories of him flooded her mind leaving her absolutely as smitten by the innocuous encounter as she had been as a teenager.  During that first reunion, she’d learned he was married and had five kids and, obviously, still lived in the same area.  It pained her to hear it then because it was just about the time in her recovery that she was realizing how much she was going to miss sex.  Not that she necessarily wanted him, but she thought she’d have liked the option.  The combination of her remembering her teenage crush, and knowledge of his producing five children, was a bit much for her to take then.  She’d hid it well, though, and she’d enjoyed that he’d return often, contracting to help make her home a little more accessible for her chair, fixing her father’s derelict boat, even taking the women out on the bayou; all the things that took her mind off of herself.  She began to really appreciate that her handicap seemed completely lost on him right from the start.  It never seemed to deter him from doing things with her.  If they were going out in his boat, he simply lifted her from the chair into the boat, without missing a beat, without asking, or treating her like a child.

Even that day on the hill at the festival, he’d sidled up beside her, tapping his fingers on her wheelchair as though it were just another part of her.  It made her laugh to herself.  His attitude helped her think less about her limitations, but in doing so she also found she thought more about Rennie.  He was different that day.  He was confident, happy.  In the months past, they would talk and revisit their pasts and, in his, she thought there always seemed to be some sadness there.  Not over her, certainly – she fantasized that it was over his wife.  He didn’t seem to have much in common with her, and he rarely spoke of her, save when it was to say what she disapproved of in him.

She was happy that day too, even before Rennie had arrived.  Maybe it was having had Denita in the house that weekend that lightened the mood and provided a distraction from the routine May Alice and Chantelle kept.  Whatever it was, it was bolstered by Rennie’s joining her, and she found the courage to tell him something she’d been wanting to for several weeks.  

“Rennie?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to have a job to do, or something to fix to come over and visit” she said.

“Yeah?”  She nodded at him and smiled.  Then he continued, “Well, maybe I’ll do that then.”

She was encouraged. Maybe he understood what she was saying, but she still couldn’t quite just say it. Instead she replied, “Do it soon, okay?”


	2. 2

**Chapter 2**

Since May Alice’s open invitation to Rennie, at the festival, he had come by at least once every week.  Sometimes he’d stay for supper, other days, he’d come by between odd jobs and, other times, he’d still fix something around May Alice’s house.  Chantelle always managed to find a way to make herself scarce for as long as she could during his visits.  Not because they wanted her to, they were fine either way, but Chantelle knew Rennie’s presence had a calming effect on May Alice and she wished for that woman any respite she could get. 

Where May Alice had no choice but to adapt to her physical limitations, adapting to being sober was a choice, every single day.  It was a hard one when one considered all that the paralysis had taken away from her.  Chantelle couldn’t have blamed her for not choosing sobriety, but she was impressed as hell that May Alice did.  The will to live always mystified Chantelle.  Both, her own and, then, seeing it in May Alice.  Chantelle had Denita, who was, ultimately, her biggest motivation for her own choice of sobriety, but May Alice, as far as Chantelle could see, had no one; no kids, parents long gone, no siblings.  Only one relative had ever visited.  She didn’t even have Rennie; he was a married man. 

Normally, Chantelle would frown upon any woman spending so much time with a married man, but this was all so different.  At first, because she and May Alice weren’t friends, they were employer and employee.   Then, as the women began to forge an actual friendship, Chantelle had already seen that Rennie returned some level of affection for May Alice.  Then there was all that May Alice had been forced to give up, her independence, her drinking, her career; how could she criticize May Alice for wanting to hold on to the one thing she found solace in? 

Not that that situation was perfect either.  The departure of Rennie always resulted in some level of self-loathing over May Alice’s continuous belief that she’d never have sex again.  It was more complicated than that, of course, but she’d steeped all of it to the lowest common denominator – sex.  Having him around often made her think about sex, and then he’d leave, she was convinced, to go have sex with his wife.  To try to combat this cyclical battle, Chantelle had begun doing some research about paraplegics and sexuality.  Not so much to encourage May Alice to have sex with Rennie, but to let her know that maybe that part of her life was not over.  There was not a lot of research at the time, but what she found was encouraging.  She’d broached the subject one day following a particularly stressful Sunday evening in August.  Rennie had come for supper, and after, announced he’d not be seeing them for several weeks.  He explained that he had a contract in New Iberia to build grandstands for the Sugar Cane Festival being held there in September.  Both women assured him they’d miss his company but understood the commitment and with that, Chantelle cleared the table and provided her customary exit.  She knew it would be a hard few weeks following for May Alice.

Chantelle watched from her second floor window that evening as Rennie and May Alice made their way to the boat dock, which they often did.  Rennie liked to night fish, or so he used as an excuse, and May Alice and he would sit, and talk, or, not talk, late into the evening.  August was every bit as unbearable as June and July in Louisiana, so, many evenings were spent on the dock where it felt cooler, if that was even possible.  That night, Rennie had cast his line, set the pole into a makeshift holder, then scooped May Alice out of her wheelchair and on to a cushion on the wooden dock.  Chantelle stopped watching then, knowing May Alice was safe, and that Rennie would return her to the house when they were ready, as always. 

Rennie baited his line, then positioned himself against May Alice’s back.  Sitting back to back, propping one another up, they didn’t speak much, which sometimes happened.  Since his reintroduction into her life, the time they’d spent together, and the conversations they had, only solidified what she’d remembered of him as a boy.  However, in addition, she was intrigued to be learning about him as a man.  She loved the culture of the Cajun that his father had passed on to him, it was a culture she had grown up around but had never been exposed to in such depth before.  The combination of what she was comfortable with, and what she was learning from him, was intoxicating to her.  It was familiar and foreign all at the same time.  That emotion is what led her into acting, and having the chance to feel it again was comforting.  She began to appreciate other conversations they’d had too.  He seemed genuinely interested in her life, like how, and why, she’d left Louisiana, and how, and why, she became an actress, and, unlike nearly everyone else from the area, he never seemed to be judging any of her decisions.  He listened attentively to everything she said, which at first, made her uncomfortable, but his intensity, when awaiting her answers, and other questions he’d follow up with, showed he was truly listening and interested, and all of that fed her ego in a way she never experienced, so, she always answered him.  She felt herself opening up to him more and more, not only about whatever he asked her, but also, about the more difficult times in her life; also something she had never wanted to share easily with others.  He was cheaper than any of her therapists, _cuter too_ , she would often think to herself.  She was less comfortable, however, enjoying his compliments of her; something she’d never accepted well from anyone, always assuming those paying them were being polite, disingenuous or insincere.  Yet, she never doubted Rennie’s motives, and she found herself wanting to see in herself what he did.  Very quickly, she’d become relaxed with the way they communicated, and sometimes she found herself remorseful that she’d never listened to anyone else that way.  If she had, she reasoned, she’d have probably been a much better actress . . . and wife.  The only difficult thing she found about spending time with Rennie was how much she missed him when he wasn’t around.  She could feel she was growing an emotional intimacy with Rennie, the likes of which she’d rarely shared with anyone, not even her ex-husband.  Sometimes she felt a little remorseful about that, and about the physical desire she harbored for Rennie because she was, very decidedly, not his wife. 

Rennie, also, realized right off, how much he missed having someone to share things with, and he’d felt the growing intimacy too.  It was the only thing neither had discussed.  Like May Alice, when they were not together, he was realizing he was missing out on something essential with his wife.  While he never would have considered himself a good conversationalist, he was learning that he craved the simple and meaningful exchanges he shared with May Alice.  He entertained tourists, mostly, year-round, but even those discussions were topical and, often, embellished to assure his paying customers felt they got a genuine bayou experience.  Unlike those relationships, his interest in May Alice was all-encompassing.  He liked that she was raised near him, even though, they really had as much in common, as not.  He had always liked her father, and what he knew of her mother, so, it seemed only natural that he would look for parts of them in May Alice.  He would never tell her, but with her new limitations, he also felt a responsibility to help her, knowing that her father would have done the same for Rennie, or any of his kids, if the tables had been turned.  It was, perhaps, an arcane, southern way of thinking, one that transcended the class structure of the time, yet, it was a given, in that community, and it was why Rennie wanted to return to that community following his brief exit from it years before.  And, of course, he could not discount the remnants of their mutual teenage crush that fostered their familiarity.  In fact, he had been embarrassed, upon seeing her for the first time in years, at the flutter in his gut that returned as though he’d not aged one day in her absence.  She was still as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her.  He’d never forgotten her green eyes.  He’d felt similarly embarrassed at his reaction the day he asked if she’d ever been married and she’d said yes.  For an instant, he found he had a flash of jealousy over that. _How could he have not heard about that before_ , he’d wondered at the time.  Still, for the rare awkward moments, there was an abundance of greater ones, and he’d always leave feeling the time passed too quickly.

For all the great conversation they shared, silence between them was every bit as important, and frequent, with them, like that evening on the dock.  After several minutes of sitting, just enjoying the sounds of the breeze and the water lapping under the dock, May Alice spoke.  “Rennie?  Do you love your wife?”  It was an uncharacteristically personal question, even for the friendship they’d shared to then.  The one subject they’d never seemed to find their way to was Rennie’s wife.  Neither, however, seemed uncomfortable with the randomness of it.  His posture did not change against her back; she could still feel him fidgeting with his hunting knife.

“Aw. . .well,” he started, then stopped briefly, “I love her, sure.”  He paused another moment, then continued, “She’s got a good heart and she’s a good mother to our kids.”

“You would never leave her, would you?”

“Oh, . . . no.  I don’t s’pose I would.”

_I know him like I know this place_ , she thought, with very mixed emotions.  In her heart, she knew he was not the kind to leave.  If he made a commitment, he would honor it.  It was part of what had always attracted her to him.  As a boy, he did whatever he said he would, whether it was bringing fish bait to her dad on a Sunday night, or delivering an ass-kicking to whoever crossed him; and now, as an adult, she had seen him remain true to his word, whatever it may be.  With everything she’d experienced in her forty years, she believed right now he was the one single thing in life that was exactly what it appeared to be and she found great comfort in that.  While she had wanted to ask Rennie about his relationship with Arlene, and she had accurately anticipated his answer, it was still hard to hear the words spoken aloud.  She was surprised to learn how much the finality of his words hurt her.  She spent the rest of their time together that night trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions she was feeling; lost, somewhere, between the comfort he provided her, and the hurt of the realization she would never mean to him what he already meant to her. 

After returning to the house that night, and having said good bye to her guest, May Alice asked Chantelle if they could leave the dinner cleanup for the morning, she wanted to go to bed.  She found that trying to hide her emotions from Rennie was quite exhausting.  The following morning, she slept in, and found, it did wonders to put her back into an emotional balance.  Sleeping in was a habit she had curbed in the past couple months, no longer sleeping until noon, she would awake, and do her physical therapy regimen.  Chantelle, knowing that Rennie’s absence would cause May Alice some distress, allowed her to sleep in, but only to 10:00 a.m., when she commanded that May Alice get up and get back on her schedule.  She was not about to let emotion over Rennie become a catalyst for a new depression after they’d fought so hard to break the others.  

While helping her dress, Chantelle handed May Alice some articles she’d printed at the library.  “I want you to read these.  They’re interesting, kind of like medical porn,” she joked.  May Alice looked at her with suspicion, but took the papers and rolled them up like she was going to swat flies with them.  “Give me those,” Chantelle said, taking them back from May Alice and placing them in the back pocket of the wheelchair. “They’re here when you get bored.”

Chantelle set her up in a shady spot by the boat dock where she customarily did weight lifting, and left her for the next thirty minutes, as she normally did.  She watched May Alice from the kitchen window and, for the time she watched, May Alice only lifted her weights, she didn’t pull out the rolled up articles from the pocket in the wheelchair.  Yet, later during lunch, May Alice asked her, “Do you really think that’s true?  About those people having sex that was sometimes better than before they were paralyzed?”

“Well, I chose only reputable source materials, so, yeah, why would they lie?”

“To make themselves feel better?” May Alice said sardonically.

“May Alice, it’s very well documented that people who lose one sense, report improvement in all other senses.  There are thousands of cases of paraplegic women who give birth after being paralyzed.  It wasn’t some immaculate conception that resulted in their pregnancies.”

After a moment, May Alice responded, “I think it’s bullshit.”

“You would,” Chantelle answered, in an equally sardonic tone.  But she believed she’d planted a seed.  There was no way May Alice could completely ignore the literature.  She was smart, Chantelle knew, she couldn’t discount it completely.  She might take a while to trust it, but she wouldn’t be able to deny that the subject had been seriously studied.  If this affection May Alice had for Rennie was more than a distraction, Chantelle knew she’d have an eventual interest.

She was very encouraged when, only a week later, May Alice asked her if she could take her into town to visit the library.  She had some things she needed to research, was all she’d said.  Neither woman elaborated, and Chantelle was more than happy to make the trip.  What she couldn’t have known was that, one visit with Rennie, back in June, Rennie had confessed something to May Alice, a confession that had later sparked something in her she’d buried long ago. 

_That day in June, a warm afternoon, with the two stationed on the boat dock, Rennie was fishing off the dock, and May Alice was flipping through a stack of photographs she’d recently taken.  Rennie turned when he heard May Alice utter, damn it, as the photos slipped from her lap on to the dock.  As she bent to try to retrieve some of the pictures, Rennie set his pole in a holder and began assisting her.  While he gathered them up, he was looking at the pictures with her._

_“It’s interesting,” he’d said, “to take things out of context like this, to see ‘em all alone.”_

_“Yes, when I do it this way, I sometimes think up stories to go with each of them.  Silly, huh?”_

_“Naw,” he said honestly, “You used to write stories when we was kids, I remember.”  She nodded, and restacked the photos in her lap.  He continued “I read a couple, you know?”_

_“You did?  When?  How?”  May Alice had written stories in school, and she was pretty good, but she couldn’t see how Rennie would have read any of those, he was two years older, and not in any of her classes.  His expression changed and he looked embarrassed, and she was so amused she called him on it, “Rennie Boudreaux, I believe you are blushin’,” she said, with her most southern, of southern accents._

_He tried to recover with, “Well, I read one the newspaper published after you won that scholarship to some school.”_

_“In Grand Coteau” she said.  “I’d forgotten all about that.”_

_Then, to her surprise, he continued, “But, there was another.”  He paused, and she waited, “I didn’t mean any harm by it, but there was one day, I’m sure you don’t remember it, but, my brother and I were messin’ with them Clarkson boys outside the high school.  You and your friends were nearby and my brother pushed Hanley Clarkson into you girls while they were scrapping.”_

_“Oh my God . . . I remember that.  We ran off so fast, sure that those boys would have knives and you’d all kill each other right there in front of us on the school grounds!”  She was laughing about how much bigger, and more menacing, the boys seemed back then.  Then, she remembered, “You came by after, with my books.”_

_“Yeah, I did.  With all but one.”  The embarrassed look returned to his face as he continued, “You had a blue spiral notebook.  It didn’t seem like school notes or anything, just some pages of writing.  Nothin’ really complete, but there was one part of a story I read that I really liked.  I liked it so much that I kept your notebook.  I’m sorry.”_

_“That’s all right,” she said, after she had stopped chuckling.  She was touched by his confession, and the sincerity he seemed to have about liking whatever she’d produced back then. “I obviously never missed it.  Truth be told, I kept notebooks like that all over the place, for whenever inspiration struck, and right now, I couldn’t tell you where a single one of them wound up.  Well, except for one.”  And, with that, she reached behind her chair and pulled out a green spiral notebook from the pocket.  She held up and winked at Rennie. “Old habits, I guess…”_

_“You’re writin’ again?” he asked, intrigued._

_“Not exactly,” she opened the notebook to reveal empty pages throughout.  “But just in case.”_

_She never asked Rennie what story she had written that he liked.  She simply appreciated how easily he could make her laugh, and remember parts of her life she’d taken for granted, and she’d assumed it was the act of his having taken, and kept, the notebook that he remembered all this time, and not the subject of the story._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

September 1st, Rennie left for New Iberia.  It rained in the afternoon, leaving the night unbearably hot and muggy, making sleep impossible.  May Alice immediately found herself thinking of him, and wishing he were there to take her out on the water, where, at least, a breeze might be found.  Deciding that thinking about Rennie was the worst thing she could do right then, she had a sudden urge to write.  She’d had some funny, odd, memories coming to her of late, and right then, she felt she might make use of the empty spiral notebook she’d been carrying around.  She found she was motivated enough to battle the exhausting thought of getting out of bed, retrieving that notebook, and finding a cool enough spot in the house, to write in it.  To her surprise, she did all of those things and more.  By 5:00 a.m., she had the outline of an entire story formed, and by 9:00 a.m., she envisioned what she was writing might take the form of a play.  She’d never written that way before.  Perhaps it was from having read too many scripts, she wondered.  She told no one about the writing, there was no reason to.  She genuinely believed it to be an experiment; another diversion to keep her mind off the heat, off drinking, off Rennie, and sex, and being paralyzed . . .

Had Chantelle known that May Alice’s request that day, to hit the library, was to do research and corroboration on this budding story, and not to investigate further, the ways to enjoy sex as a paraplegic, she might have been very disappointed indeed.


	3. 3

**Chapter 3**

In their youth, Rennie was not the kind of boy May Alice’s people would have approved of, not at first anyway.  But Rennie had grown from a wild, hell-raising kid into a kind, simple man.  Not simple in intellect, far from it, but simple in his needs, his beliefs, and in his conduct.  He’d left in his youth, drafted into the army, but he’d returned after and he had stayed.  That was something every Southerner, no matter his socio-economic status, religion, or other birthright, respected about those who returned.  Had he chosen to lay claim to May Alice’s affections back then, it’s a sure bet her father would have, at least, entertained the idea, before refusing outright, to give his blessing.  Not that any of that mattered because their paths had parted long before then.

When Rennie returned from his stint in the army, he’d naturally matured some, but it had taken another two years before he’d traded his hard drinking ways for a wife.  Arlene and Rennie had a few more wild days between them before they had their first two girls, but by the third child, Arlene’s family had reclaimed their once, wayward, daughter and succeeded in reintroducing her to their religion.  Rennie, having less than no interest in soul saving, then, was spared complete shunning by Arlene’s family only because he agreed Arlene could raise the kids under her beliefs.  He figured his kids having religion couldn’t hurt.  He’d been raised Catholic, like most of the population around Louisiana, so, he had no reason to think that, whatever offshoot Arlene’s people practiced, would be all that different.  Through the years, however, he’d have some misgivings about that decision.  It seemed the more kids they had together, the more oppressive that religion became, and the bigger the chasm between husband and wife.  But to Arlene’s people, the only thing worse than being married to a sinner, might have been being divorced from one.  So, while having five kids along the way, Rennie and Arlene had grown apart together.

Earlier on in the marriage, to fill the time he was not spending with his wife and kids, Rennie had spent time with his father and brother.  However, those times mostly served to remind him why he’d not liked spending too much time with them.  Eventually, his father’s life had been violently taken, and his brother’s, two years following that.  Since then, Rennie took all his comfort in work.  Over the years he had become a jack of all trades, and there was probably no family anywhere in the county that had not contracted some kind of service from him.  He was amiable, and fair, and no one didn’t have a kind word regarding him, save the one woman who, maybe, should have.  But Rennie was never bitter about that; he never raised a hand in anger, or resentment, to anyone in his family.  He just figured he had his ways and Arlene had hers and that was that.

For Arlene’s part, she loved Rennie for the man he’d been to her when she was “sick”, as she would call it.  When they’d met, she’d run off from her family in Baton Rouge.  Following a break-up with the first boy she ever loved, she’d made her way to New Orleans in hopes of finding one of those, other fish in the sea, that everyone promised existed.  In New Orleans, she went from one musician to another, and finally, to one who she followed to Houma.  There, she’d discovered fuel for her natural wild side, in the form of cocaine.  One early morning, following a 72-hour binge high, the man had severely beaten her and driven her around for hours before, finally, ending up in Lafayette, where he unceremoniously abandoned her at a hospital, and disappeared.  She met Rennie in bar a month later.  From the moment they met, they’d uncharacteristically recognized a gentler side in one another in the midst of their outward, rebellious selves.  It bonded them and probably kept her alive for those first few months.  With Rennie, she’d returned to only drinking, confessing that she’d never really liked the effect drugs had on her, and within another few months of being together, she was pregnant with the first of their children.  They eloped, and had been living near Lafayette for about seven months when Acadia Rene Boudreaux entered the world.  They would enjoy two more, relatively calm, years together before welcoming their second girl, Sabine.  Following Sabine’s birth, however, Arlene’s family had reconnected with her, and that re-acquaintance began to alter Rennie and Arlene’s paths.

Arlene had welcomed the relief.  In that time away from her family, her naiveté made her an easy target for all the evil she’d always been warned about.  She’d dreamed of finding freedom with other kids her age, who seemed to only want to love one other, bask in the sun, wear sandals, and flowers in their hair, and help old people cross streets.  While she did find such liberty among her free loving peers, she also found that drugs, and sex, were the real motives behind the particular peers that she had innocently chosen to follow.  Fairly quickly, she learned that being drunk, or high, helped her accept the sex she was being subjected to, and stopping either one, seemed counterproductive to her chosen lifestyle.  Pride became her deadly sin she’d later reflect; it had kept her from admitting her mistakes and returning to the safety of her god.  She was “sick”, and she had two young babies of her own and no sense of how to best raise them.  Rather than learning how, or trusting in Rennie to help, she was re-indoctrinated into her own family, and their ways.  It was Rennie’s misfortune that Arlene could rarely separate her time with him, from the time of her self-described illness.  At rare times, she would remember that she’s loved that wild, sweet soul, and the man he’d settled into after becoming a father.  But following those years, she loved the man she thought he’d be, once her god had forgiven her sin of having once refused her religion.  Through the years, she’d believed her lack of success in changing Rennie was her penance, and she was his salvation.  It was her evil that kept Rennie from accepting her lord and savior and left him to carouse with the devil in the swamps of Louisiana.  She could never give up on him, lest she fail her role as wife, and worse, fail her god.  She would honor her vow, serve her penance, and in doing so, she would save them all.  It was a good way to live her life because she was so busy trying to please that god, she never had to wonder if she was happy.

The same could also have been said about Rennie, to an extent.  He was a husband, and a father, and he took those responsibilities seriously.  Happy, or not happy, was never part of the equation.  Arlene was indifferent to him, but not cruel, or unkind, unless, if one argued, keeping him from their kids was counted.  She was neither affectionate, nor passionate, with Rennie, but, she performed her wifely duties willingly and with tenderness.  Rennie was full-on Louisiana Cajun.  He was not ashamed of it, it was who he was and always would be and when he became a father, he’d assumed he’d pass along all that his father had passed on to him.  He still held out hope that, one day, the kids would be old enough to make the choice to learn about the Cajun ways, in addition to the way of life they were learning from Arlene.  He trusted his wife with raising the kids, and though he thought the religion was extreme, he never had reason to think his kids were in any danger because of it.


	4. 4

**Chapter 4**

Chantelle recruited a student intern at the city library to help get May Alice comfortably set up at a table to do her mystery research.  The intern had immediately recognized May Alice from her soap opera role and was positively giddy over her being there, explaining how she and her best friend watched “Manhattan General” religiously during their summers off from school.

Still hoping May Alice was contemplating the literature she had provided the week prior, Chantelle was apprehensive about leaving her with the young girl to look up that particular kind of information, but her apprehension quickly dissipated, and was replaced by quiet disappointment, when May Alice requested books on playwriting, and writing satire for the stage.  Unless she was planning on writing a comedy about handicapped porn for the stage, Chantelle feared May Alice had already discounted the carefully chosen research.  She was dejected because May Alice was still a young woman, and one Chantelle believed would be fully capable of a normal relationship with a man, if only May Alice believed she could.

As agreed, Chantelle would run her errands leaving May Alice to study in peace.  Upon her return two hours later, the table she’d left her at was strewn with, upwards of fifteen books, and many specks of color where Post-its marked various pages in each.  “Wow,” she said, “you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, it sort-of, snowballed.  Tracy, the intern, is actually quite adept with research; she’s pulled some pretty great stuff,” she responded. 

Chantelle asked, “Do you need a break?” knowing that was not anything Tracy, the intern, would be suited for.  While normally, May Alice was capable of restroom tasks on her own, many public facilities were still lacking the amenities she needed.

“Oh, uh, sure, that’s probably a good idea; I completely lost track of the time.”

Following the break, May Alice asked if Chantelle wouldn’t mind her investing another hour there.  That hour was spent with Tracy making several photocopies of pages from the various books that May Alice had marked.  Chantelle perused the latest copy of Ebony while the other two women discussed the limitations of the library, and how, that “internet- thing” would likely revolutionize research as they knew it. 

Once packed up and loaded with material, the women departed the library, and headed to a small café in the center of the town for lunch.  Chantelle was encouraged by May Alice’s agreement to the outing.  Up to then, she was still too uneasy about being out in public.  She felt she’d be gawked at, both, for her celebrity status, and her unfortunate accident.  It was justified, Chantelle knew, but she’d need to get past it sooner or later.  Maybe this was a small step in that direction.  Perhaps Tracy’s example proved to May Alice that she was incorrect about the town’s people and how they might react to her.

The two had just finished ordering when the door to the café opened and a woman with five young kids entered.  May Alice immediately recognized them.  “Oh my God, Chantelle, it’s Rennie’s family.”  She gasped under her breath; she’d had the same reaction the first time the women had seen the family, months ago, when they passed by them in town.  That day, May Alice had nearly ducked down in the car, as though anyone would have noticed her there to begin with.  Chantelle had ignored the silly behavior then, believing May Alice’s crush on Rennie would pass soon enough.  Now she knew better.

Chantelle glanced over, at the same time, one of the older of the girls in the group did.  They made eye contact, and Chantelle smiled, then returned her gaze to May Alice, and said casually, “So what if it is?” 

May Alice took a gulp of her iced tea, then, and as she was sitting the glass back down, felt a small tap on her shoulder.  The same girl, maybe ten, stood between the women, and said, with the sweetest little southern accent, “Excuse me, ma’am – but are you Miss Culhane?”

Shocked by the question, May Alice recovered quickly, and turned her head to meet the girl, who had moved along side of her. “Well, yes, I am.  And, by whom do I have the pleasure of being asked?” she said graciously to the girl, with a genuine smile.

“I am Acadia Boudreaux.  You are a friend of my Pa’s.”

“I sure am.  How did you know?”  She flashed a panicked look to Chantelle, who flashed a wide eyed look back at her, as though understanding May Alice’s momentary fear at the answer that might follow.

“He told me about your chair with wheels.  I ain’t seen nothin’ like this one before,” she said, appearing impressed at seeing it in person.  May Alice smiled at Chantelle, relieved to know, exactly, how Acadia had identified her.  Acadia went on to point to her family, who were at the café bakery counter.  “Them’s my brother, my sissies, and my Maw,” she needlessly explained to the women.

Chantelle had noticed, from the moment the girl was tableside, an odd coloration to her pale skin.  As she studied it further, she said, “Well, we have heard you are a very good big sister.  I have a little girl just about your age.”

“You do?  Where is she?”  Acadia said, looking around for another girl. 

As Chantelle began to speak of Denita, Arlene approached the group hurriedly.  She took Acadia in hand and began apologizing, “Terribly sorry, she knows better than to bother.”  Her manner told the women she had no idea who they were.  In truth, she hadn’t paid much attention to them, focused mainly on wrangling her wandering child.  Nevertheless, May Alice turned about four shades of red at the appearance of Rennie’s wife, right there, up close.  As if the woman could have known any of the thoughts May Alice entertained about her husband.  For being an actress, Chantelle thought May Alice had to be overrated at best, if this performance was any indication.

“It’s really no problem,” Chantelle responded, before Arlene could identify May Alice’s discomfort.  As quickly as she had answered, May Alice had composed herself and offered a serene smile at the women but was unable to utter a word. 

Not being one bit social herself, Arlene barely noticed, or acknowledged May Alice at all.  She spirited Acadia away to the others where they retrieved their purchase, and exited the cafe.  Acadia did turn to the women on the way out, and waved goodbye.

“That was weird,” May Alice said with a nervous giggle.

“What’s weird, is that little girl.  Did you see how yellow her skin is?  That’s not good.”  May Alice had not noticed the girl’s complexion, but knew that Chantelle would not be alarmed without reason.  The women discussed the girl, and Rennie, and Arlene, and they wondered if Arlene’s religious nature was one that included a refusal for conventional medical treatment, should there really be something wrong.  In the end, there was nothing they could do.  Rennie was gone, and was not really the type to telephone, not them anyway.  It would be another two weeks before the subject came up again.


	5. 5

**Chapter 5**

May Alice generally had only two times a day when she was alone; during her work outs in the morning, and late at night, after Chantelle had turned in for the evening.  Chantelle’s having the whole upstairs floor of the house helped each of the women feel a little bit like they had some independence from one another.  It would still be many more months before May Alice would have the skill and strength to maneuver her new life with less assistance.  For the time being, that was okay with Chantelle, who’s past several years of life were fraught with unpredictability, and a general sense of being out of control.  That is the life of a drug abuser, and she was every bit that.  Having this job was her life line after completing rehab.  She understood the importance of keeping it, and in the few months she’d been with May Alice, she was beginning to trust herself more and more.  The pay was good for no more nursing experience than she had at the time, and her self-worth was improving because she could see the contribution she made to the quality of May Alice’s life every single day.  It was a huge responsibility and she needed that.  If she could do this for a total stranger, she knew, no court in the world could continue to keep her own daughter from her.  And it was stable; May Alice had turned down a recent opportunity to return to New York City, and resume her acting career, so, at least for the time being, she wasn’t going anywhere.  Additionally, May Alice had made it clear to her that she’d have a job as long as she wanted it, and that was even after May Alice had learned of her recent, dark past, and overall lack of experience as a nurse.  It might not have been the stability Chantelle would have chosen, but right then, it was a stability she could live with.  Temptation was non-existent, save for the occasional times spent in town with Ulysses “Sugar” LeDoux, the only man she’d met since being in town.  Sex was far less addictive for her than drugs, and while Sugar had his own vices, drugs was not one.

May Alice did not tell Chantelle about her writing, not even after that first trip to the library, and she was relieved that Chantelle never asked.  Her confidence in her writing had been taken from her long ago, first by her professors at Columbia, then, compounded by the death of her father.  Returning home had, obviously, fueled memories of May Alice’s childhood there.  How could it not?  And no memory was stronger than that of her father.  He was larger than life to most, but, especially to May Alice.  She’d adored him, and he had been the catalyst, and supporter, of all her creative endeavors. 

Everett Culhane was the first one to tell May Alice the grand, mystical, stories of the bayou.  She loved to watch his face as he imitated everything from snakes, to cranes and owls, to the old Cajun shrimpers and gator-hunters on the river.  There was never any question in her mind, who she got her dramatic flair from.  Even as she aged, he still told her stories about the colorful character’s he’d encounter in his travels abroad.  He had a wicked sense of humor which flourished in every one of his tales.  When her professors at Columbia preached that she write what she knew, she would think of her father, but, somehow, putting him down on paper seemed, to her, like a betrayal.  He was hers, and she would not put him on display to be picked at, and critiqued, by some random professor who could not appreciate him the way she did.  It would be years later, after living life among writers, and actors, and musicians, that she would gain the maturity to understand how she could incorporate her favorite parts of her father into her writing, and, in doing so, provide testament to the man he was, without actually having to share him openly.

May Alice had an idyllic life growing up in Louisiana.  The only daughter to two, doting parents and, of wealthy oil stock, she wanted for nothing, save the one thing everyone wanted – to feel like she belonged.  Her mother was stunningly beautiful, and there was nothing the woman didn’t excel at.  She passed along all she could to her sweet child, but May Alice never felt up to par.  Indeed, the only thorn in the bed of roses of her young life, was figuring out what she was supposed to be.  She certainly didn’t live up to her mother’s beauty and talent, or to her father’s intellect and personality.  She never fully fit the mold of those perfect southern girls either.  Not that she didn’t try, and with some success, she fit in for a long while, but her heart was never in it.  What she did eventually learn, was that she had enough writing talent, enough money, and enough brains, to get her into Columbia.  It was when she left for Columbia, and saw New York City, that she began to feel like she might finally belong.

While studying literature and writing, at Columbia, her professors often did not find her stories real, or eccentric enough, “to matter”.  After her second year there, she began experimenting with the theater people, and acting.  She found them to be plenty eccentric, and they found her to be plenty real, being from somewhere else, and they liked that.  How ironic, that the one thing she was, and was trying not to be, was the one thing that made her appealing to the kind of people she longed to fit in with.  Once she’d discovered how good she was at playing other people, she was hooked.  She ate, drank and slept theater.  Acting, in anything and everything she could, had sustained her, and forged the very persona that felt like, exactly, who she wanted to be.  Writing had been replaced, in the proverbial, New York minute.  In the years that followed, she felt far more comfortable hiding behind roles in stories that other people wrote. 

It didn’t hurt any that pretending to be someone else, also kept her from falling, headlong into the chasm of grief when news of her parents’ death came that third year at school.  For that version of May Alice Culhane, grief was something to be studied, and the emotions experienced were done so for experience sake, to be filed away, and recalled later, for use in some role.  They were not, to be reveled in, because that is what southern girls did, and she was no longer a southern girl; she was an actress, in New York City.  So, that was who she remained, carefully cocooned in the persona she’d created, she was safe, untouchable.  That is, until the day a taxi cab did, in fact, touch her irreversibly.

Following that, the first months back in her family home, robbed of that carefully forged, façade, and with nothing but time, she’d started taking pictures with the little camera her Uncle Reeve’s had given her.  She could be alone for hours in the darkroom he’d built in garage on the property.  As the developer solution brought each of her images to the surface, she found herself making up stories to go along with them, just as she’d told Rennie about.  It was no surprise to her that, sometimes, she would imagine her father’s voice telling the story, adding a touch of drama to the tale of the hour.  What did surprise her, was that, sometimes what she heard was not her father’s voice, but Rennie’s.  She found tremendous comfort in both, and with that comfort she found the courage to try to write again.  Courage had returned, but not confidence.  Even before that day when Rennie reminded her she could write, she had begun to replace her dalliance in photography with that more familiar diversion.

May Alice came clean about the writing late in September.  She had decided a computer would make everything easier, and she would need Chantelle to take her to find one.  Still, she divulged only basics to Chantelle.  She omitted the fact that one of her stories, the one she’d had the outline for, just after Rennie left town, and the one she was doing the library research on, had taken hold, and was gaining actual form.  It wasn’t finished, by any means, but she had the characters, and the plot, a beginning, a middle, and soon, she believed she would have an ending, as well.  The more she wrote, the more ideas would flow, both for that story, and others she didn’t want to lose sight of.  All of it was already too much for a spiral notebook.

Chantelle was intrigued.  It wasn’t hard for her to imagine that an actor would possess the creativity to write, but she could barely picture May Alice as that semi-famous soap star she’d only heard about.  May Alice was pretty, she thought, but television pretty?  She didn’t see it.  As curious as she was about what May Alice might be writing, she was mostly just happy that there was something else to help keep her mind off drinking, and Rennie’s absence.  And she was really happy to know that May Alice’s slow return to sleeping until noon, these past weeks, had been due to her staying up all night writing, and not the return of depression like Chantelle had feared.  If a computer would keep May Alice from staying up all night long writing, she was all for it.


	6. 6

**Chapter 6**

In the weeks since Rennie’s departure, along with writing, Chantelle and May Alice’s routine had also solidified.  The only change, was the personal computer that had been set up, and was fully functioning for many hours of the day, and night, when the routine allowed for it.  Chantelle kept May Alice on her daily exercise, eating, and chores routine, but once those were done, each were free to do what they wished; and what they wished, was to write.  May Alice wrote whatever she was writing, Chantelle wrote letter, after letter, to her father, and to Denita.  While Chantelle had some misgivings about May Alice’s constant tapping of her keyboard, she was encouraged to see that she no longer dwelled, solely, on devastating thoughts.  In fact, many days May Alice actually seemed happy, something Chantelle wondered if had ever happened with that woman, even before the accident.  She had feared how Rennie’s extended absence might play out for May Alice, so, she was pleasantly surprised that his name rarely came up in those weeks. 

With the newfound freedom May Alice was exhibiting, letter writing to her family could only fill up so much of Chantelle’s time.  She’d sworn off relationships for at least a year, so, while still keeping some time with Sugar, she kept her visits with him to a minimum.  What she did find safer, and equally interesting, was nursing.  She’d made many trips the library, perusing medical journals, and familiarizing herself with new trends in medicine, and learning more about levels of care for paraplegics.  She felt more, and more, that she had landed a pretty good gig with May Alice.  May Alice, having money to pay her better than most the other skilled nursing jobs she’d seen advertised, gave Chantelle a want to keep earning that pay, and making May Alice’s life as good as she could, in exchange.  May Alice was more cooperative too; not everything had to be a battle anymore, so, Chantelle was encouraged to keep trying things she thought would help May Alice’s transition to a less mobile life.

One of the more beneficial findings the women incorporated was leg presses.  Muscle atrophy, Chantelle knew, was a huge issue for paralysis patients, often leaving legs to shrink, and lose shape.  So, with the help of May Alice’s physical therapist, Louise, and Chantelle’s desire to keep her patient as viable as possible, the women focused there, first.  By giving May Alice one area of concentration, both in therapy, and at home, thus far, May Alice’s legs had not succumbed to the effects of atrophy.  The results were visible to her, which encouraged her to keep working.  She could stand for longer periods of time, with less loss of stamina, and with additional focus on her improving her core strength, Chantelle had already begun to notice more definition in May Alice’s abdominal muscles; something she would need to keep up, for both upper, and lower body preservation.  The additional endurance further encouraged May Alice to keep up with the regimen and, though she was not ready to admit it aloud, she appreciated that Chantelle and Louise were doing so much for her.  Appreciative, and a bit, embarrassed because she certainly had done nothing to earn such dedication from them.  She pushed aside those thoughts most of the time, but they still crept in, and sometimes, competed with her newfound playwriting obsession, and that had her irritated.

What May Alice had been forging the past several weeks was a biting satire.  It was based on her experiences as an actress, and it housed all the improper, absurd, and sarcastic things she’d thought on a daily basis, but fought hard to keep suppressed.  After all, she had a reputation to uphold, and she’d had impeccable manners.  Her play, before it had any semblance of being a play, had started more as a journal, prompted by early visits from her schoolmates, Ti-Marie and Precious Robichaux, and her former cast mates from New York, and even from Chantelle’s friend, Luther.  They’d each reminded her of the many peculiar, and often, absurd situations she’d found herself in throughout her life.  She was not certain why she’d felt the need to write those memories down then, but she wasn’t drinking anymore and her party days were over, so she’d need to do something.  She remembered that day when Rennie reminded her about her old notebooks, and she believed it had to be some kind of validation that she might be on to something.  And so, she’d continued writing, and remembering, and analyzing her odd positioning within the bizarre situations life had presented to her, including the more traumatic one which had threatened to sideline her for good. 

Once she’d found an outlet for those memories, the satire began, and with the ease of the newly acquired computer, basically wrote itself.  Remarkably, by mid-October, she had a solid story, and no idea what to do about it.  While still not complete, May Alice took an incredible leap of faith in herself and contacted one of her show’s producers, in New York, for guidance.  “Manhattan General” had many producers, and her favorite was one who actually didn’t like her very much, and May Alice respected that.  Lisa Teller was smart, and she had the same biting sense of humor May Alice had.  They were about the same age, but Lisa seemed far more mature, May Alice always thought.  Maybe because of her title, producer; which always sounded a lot more respectable to May Alice, than actress, but, she craved the accolades of the latter.  So, she would feed her ego, while she watched, and tried to learn whatever she could from Lisa, without ever really divulging that she was doing so.  Lisa was not, by far, a top producer for the show, but May Alice knew, one day, she would be, and maybe even a top producer for a show that was actually good, she’d quipped to herself.  She had to leave a message for Lisa.  Even a small-time soap producer had to keep up appearances, May Alice thought.  The administrative assistant, at least, remembered May Alice, and seemed happy to take the message, so, she felt confident that even if Lisa didn’t remember her, the assistant might clue her in.

Lisa phoned that same evening, much to May Alice’s surprise.  She’d assumed she’d have a couple of days to figure out the best approach for her request to the woman.  Nevertheless, she’d spoken professionally, and thoughtfully, and that intrigued Lisa.  May Alice explained the need for a skilled and honest opinion to her work, and Lisa agreed she would read what May Alice had written.  As suspected, Lisa was indeed smart, and she understood people, and business.  She saw in May Alice, much of what May Alice, had seen in her.  She often wondered why May Alice meandered in the soap circle when she believed she was capable of much more. 

A week later Lisa had received, read, and liked, what May Alice had written.  She phoned her with information.  “I agree with you.  It’s good and it could work.  But, I have to confess that I may not be the right person to help you get it produced.”

The women discussed who else, and why, and why not, and in the end, May Alice simply said, “Lisa, I think you _are_ the one to sell it.” 

Lisa was silent for a moment and then responded, “Give me another week; let me see what I can come up with.”  On Halloween night, Lisa phoned again, “Want to hear something really scary?”

May Alice laughed and said “Try me.”

“Austin Wyatt wants to meet with you.  He will fly down when you say the word.”  Wyatt was well known around the theater circuit in New York.  Not a producer per se, more of a process genius, there was not one comedy to hit the theaters in the past twenty-five years that Wyatt hadn’t had some part in getting to the stage.  He definitely knew how to put the right people together.  If he was interested, there was definitely something good about what she’d written and she was stunned.

“That’s ridiculous,” she finally stammered.

“Yes, it is – but he sees potential and he wants to meet with you.”  That was that; no one said no to a meeting with Austin Wyatt.

Following the call, May Alice was animatedly divulging to Chantelle what she’d been up to, with all the weeks of scribbling in notebooks, and tapping keys of the computer, and what might now be resulting from it.  Chantelle had wondered who May Alice had been leaving messages for in New York City, and she’d feared that May Alice had changed her mind, and was thinking about returning to the soap, after all.  She was quite relieved to know it wasn’t that.  As they discussed where, and when, to meet Wyatt, there was a knock on the front door.  The women looked at each other in wonder.  It was Halloween, but being fifteen miles out from Lafayette, no kids came trick-or-treating.  Regardless, Chantelle headed for the door and suggested May Alice find some treats, just in case.  Standing outside, were four little kids, all dressed in tattered clothes, with big, silly straw hats.  They each had little necklaces made of alligator teeth. 

“Trick-or-treat,” a familiar voice said, as Rennie stepped out from behind them where he’d been crouching. 

“My, my,” Chantelle said to the kids, “what have we here?”

“We ahh Cajoons,” one of the girls said, in a contrived, but adorable, accent.

“Indeed, you are!” She replied, and looked back to see May Alice coming toward them with candy bars.  The ladies welcomed the group inside, and commented on the costumes, and such.  They all showed the kids around the house grounds, and ventured down to the boat dock.  Rennie hung back some, helping May Alice with her chair down the small hill toward the dock. 

“You’re missing one,” May Alice commented.

“Yeah – my oldest, she’s ailing.  Stayed home with the wife.  Actually, Arlene doesn’t know about the trick-or-treating.  She wouldn’t approve.  We’re supposed to be gettin’ ice cream.” 

The memory of what Chantelle said about Acadia’s complexion that day in the café came rushing back.  She was not sure how to ask him about the girl, so she bought some time.  “Well, aren’t you afraid they might rat you out?”

“Ah, maybe they will, but, I like ‘em to see things ain’t all as bad as some want ‘em to think.  The kids don’t get to do too much of the fun things we all did,” he said matter-of-factly.  “Sometimes I just like to show ‘em a thing or two.”

Not having anything else at the ready, she blurted out, “Rennie, what’s wrong with Acadia?

He stopped for a moment, taken aback that May Alice knew his daughter’s name, but he didn’t let on.  “She’s not felt right for some weeks now.  My wife’s family have all been praying over her, but she is still not herself.”

“Weeks, huh? And, she’s not seen a doctor?”  May Alice was dismayed.  Weeks, the girl had been sick and all they were doing was praying?

“No.  Arlene’s convinced she’s not really sick in the body, just the heart.”

“And what do you think?”  She asked, looking up to see his face, which was only dimly lit by lights on the boat dock.

“Well, I ain’t really seen her much.  I popped my head in last night, when I got home, to say hi, but it was after dark, and only a small light was on.  But she looked the same.  She did look tired, but it was bed time.”  May Alice’s was worried.  She couldn’t intrude on something she knew nothing about, but she knew Chantelle would be alarmed, too, if she heard the girl was sick, especially, if she’d been sick three weeks ago, when they first saw her.

Chantelle had also noticed the absence of one child in Rennie’s group but he and May Alice were several feet away so she waited for them to approach, then she too asked Rennie who was missing.  Before he could answer, May Alice said, “Chantelle, I was just about to tell Rennie how we saw the kids and Arlene in town a few weeks back.  Why don’t you tell him what you thought about Acadia that day?  She’s ill, and prayer, doesn’t seem to be working,” and with that, she rolled off to maintain eyes on the kids, who were running around the boat dock, leaving Chantelle to fend for herself.

Chantelle looked nervously at Rennie, and shot May Alice a sideways glance, that was lost in the dark.  Then she’d remembered that something really bad was likely happening to that little girl so she jumped right in.  She reminded Rennie first that she was a trained nurse.  Then, she told Rennie about the chance meeting in the café, weeks before, and the discoloration she noticed in Acadia back then, and offered a few reasons for what could have caused it.  She told him that if Acadia was still sick, he needed to, seriously consider, getting her to a doctor.  Rennie looked shocked.  He didn’t offer any words.  Chantelle did not know about the local mores of Cajun culture, nor those of whatever Arlene’s religion might be, but his silence made her fear he was not buying in so she added, “Look, Rennie, maybe it’s nothing, but a doctor can confirm that, so, what’s the harm in letting her be seen by one?”

Rennie had nothing against doctors, personally.  But he was used to relying on Arlene’s diagnoses when it came to the kids.  Still, Chantelle was a nurse, he reasoned, maybe she was right, and there would be no harm in having a doctor look at Acadia, after all, what could an innocent ten-year-old have done to be sick at heart?  He gathered up the rest of his kids, and on the way back up the hill, he told the women, if Acadia was still feeling bad the next day, he would take her in to be seen.

That following morning was a Sunday.  Rennie waited to see if Acadia was well enough to attend church with the rest of the family.  The determination would assist him with the decision to follow.  When Arlene came out of the girls’ bedroom, thermometer in hand, and a worried look on her face, he knew what Chantelle said, had merit.  “She still ain’t feelin’ well?”  He asked, trying to ascertain what Arlene might be thinking. 

“No, and her fever is back.  Maybe I should call the elders in to pray some more.” 

It wasn’t really a question, but she knew what Rennie would think about it.  She didn’t think he’d say it, but to her surprise he did.  “That’s not working, Arlene.  How long has she been sick?” 

“Just a little while.  It’s nothing, she’s fought down the fever before.”  Then, she was worried for two reasons; her prayer was not curing the child, and she feared what Rennie might do about that.

He could see the worry in his wife’s expression, and he sympathized with it.  Choosing his battle, he went to her, to offer a reassuring embrace, as he said, “All right then, we’ll see how it goes.”  But, Arlene ducked away from the embrace, and hurried off in the direction of the girl’s room. 

She looked back to Rennie, and said, “If you will stay with her while we are gone, I’ll bring the prayer group back with me.”

“Of course, I will,” he said; but of course, he didn’t.

As soon as he dropped the remaining Boudreaux’s off at the makeshift church that had been rented for this splinter group of worshippers, he headed right back home and scooped up the ailing Acadia.  Once inside the truck, he was horrified to see what Chantelle had alluded to, not only was the girls skin an odd shade of yellow-orange, but also, the whites of her eyes were yellow.  “Acadia, I am taking you to the hospital, is that okay?” he asked the child, not knowing, really, much about what she might be thinking.  The girl just looked at him a moment, then nodded.  If he’d been asked about the look on her face, he might say she looked defeated.  Arriving at the hospital in town, he again, carried the frail girl, wrapped in her bed blanket, into the emergency room.  When he picked her up that time, he noticed her ankles appeared swollen, and he was certain she weighed less than the last time he’d held her.  Perhaps he was just panicking, he reasoned.

Acadia was seen immediately, the staff noticing, right off, the lethargy in the girl, and the jaundice of her skin and eyes.  They pointed Rennie to the admitting area, and said once he finished there, he should wait for word on the girl in the ER waiting area.  He completed all the necessary paperwork, and then moved to the waiting room indicated by the staff.  He remained there for two hours before anyone approached him.  Finally, a man in scrubs and a white coat approached him.  “You are Acadia Boudreaux’s father?” he asked.  Rennie confirmed.  Then the man, Dr. Alistair, launched right into a litany of statements, and questions.  How long the girl had been sick?  Why had she not been treated?  Did Rennie understand the consequences of leaving a kidney infection untreated?  Then Dr. Alistair finished with another litany of things that were actually wrong with the girl.  All Rennie could absorb at the time, was that Acadia was in serious condition, and this was not going to pass without a lot of medication.  Knowing the battle, the latter was going to cause at home, Rennie tried to broach the subject with the doctor.  “The wife, you see?  Her people don’t really allow modern medications.”  The doctor interrupted him, immediately.

“Mr. Boudreaux, your child must be treated.  She should have been treated weeks ago, and you did the right thing by getting her here.  If you, or your wife, attempt to remove her, I will not hesitate to get the state’s child welfare folks involved.”  Dr. Alistair had dealt with many of the various nationalities, and doctrines of the natives of Louisiana, so, Rennie’s declaration was nothing new.  Although he knew, he’d not, likely, have to follow through on the welfare services, he thought he should give Rennie some ammunition to use, with the wife, and buy his staff as much time as possible, to get Acadia treated.  Rennie couldn’t have known what the doctor might, or might not  do, and he didn’t really care.  He knew his first born was sick, and he would do whatever he needed to guarantee her recovery.  He assured the doctor he’d not need to invoke such measures.

Dr. Alistair then went on to detail that he suspected the girl might only have a bad kidney infection, all her symptoms fit.  The delay in treatment, he believed, was now causing sepsis, and then, he said that worst case scenario, could be kidney disease.  But he assured Rennie that was premature, and they would talk more after all the testing was completed.  Rennie, once again, agreed to all the doctor had presented him.  The doctor then led him into the area where Acadia was being treated while they awaited a bed to admit her.  She looked even younger to Rennie, then, than her ten years.  She looked so frail, and foreign, with the odd coloration of the skin, her puffy ankles, and, now, he saw the same puffiness in her face.  She had an oxygen mask, an IV drip in one arm, and a blood pressure cuff on the other.  Her eyes were closed, but she opened them when he spoke her name.  He explained to her that all those things, and the people, were there to help her get well again.  She nodded, as if to say she understood, and then she spoke through the mask, and said to him that she was cold.  Indeed, they only had her covered with a hospital gown, and a sheet.  The blanket and nightgown she’d come in with, were nowhere Rennie could see.  He patted the hand he’d been holding, and said, “I’ll find a blanket.  I will be right back.”  He stopped the nearest person he could find, and was told they’d get a blanket to the girl shortly.

It took four hours, since they’d arrived, before Rennie was confident enough to leave the girl.  She was in a room, covered, and the fever was already at bay.  He was dreading the inevitable discussion with Arlene, but, once involved, he was not one to back away from what needed to be done.

He returned home, and the rest of the family arrived within the hour, with seven additional people, and bibles, in tow.  He met Arlene at the door and asked if he could speak with her before allowing everyone else in.  He’d suspected how she might react, and didn’t want her to have to worry about doing it in front of members of her congregation.  She was suspicious of the request but reluctantly agreed.  Inside, he gave her the quick low down on Acadia’s whereabouts, and condition.  She looked at him with her eyes wide, and mouth agape, and Rennie thought it a good sign, like she was comprehending why he took the girl, and how sick she truly was.  He realized, by her silence, following his conclusion of facts, that Arlene’s reaction was actually one of complete shock, and betrayal.  Her face flushed red, and Rennie was met by a slap to his face.  Arlene spoke in a voice he’d not remembered ever hearing before; it was a low growl, that reminded Rennie of a wounded animal. 

“You have stolen my child and led her to the _charlatans_?!  You are not fit to be a father.  You get out of this house, _now_!”  Her whole body was shaking.  He wanted to grab her, and make her understand, but he did not know this woman before him.  This was not the girl he married ten years ago.  That girl, would never, under any circumstance, have denied any child, proper care, much less, her own flesh and blood.  He should have felt angry, he should have felt hurt, but all he felt was sad.  Arlene opened the front door for him, and held it open, until he left.  On his way out, he gathered his four remaining children, and hugged them collectively, whispering that he would not be far, and he would come by soon to check on them.  He looked back at crowd of seven, and his incensed wife on the porch, and then he got into his truck and returned to the hospital, where he would remain for the next three days.


	7. 7

**Chapter 7**

Chantelle and May Alice had, for obvious reasons, not heard from Rennie since Halloween night.  They feared that meant that Acadia was not better, but they also hoped that if that were the case, the Boudreauxs would be tending to the girl.  In the meantime, they prepared the house for their visitor from New York.  Chantelle was no hick, she was raised in privilege much like May Alice was, but in Chicago; nevertheless, New York theater was a big deal, even in Chi-town, and Chantelle was as curious about this producer-not-producer, Austin Wyatt, as she was about May Alice’s play.  May Alice had refused to let Chantelle read it until just the night prior to Wyatt’s arrival.  She’d assumed, after May Alice’s brief description of it, that she’d need to have been a theater person, or a celebrity of some kind to really appreciate it; that was far from the right assumption.  Chantelle had not read a play before, and she was intrigued by the set-up of it all, the dialogue, written right along with the stage direction, was something she’d not been exposed to before.  She fell right in step with it, and upon completing her first reading, she was truly impressed by the poignant story.  She, again, found herself trying to reconcile the May Alice Culhane she’d known these past four months and the mind behind this remarkable thing she’d just read.  

“This is how good your writing was?  Why did you abandon it?” Chantelle said, incredulously, still holding a copy of the manuscript in her hand.

“Oh, God no, Chantelle, I -” she started to laugh, then stopped, as the words sunk in, “wait, do you really like it?”  May Alice was not fishing for a compliment.  She’d come to appreciate Chantelle’s opinions, she was smart, and tough, and she liked that Chantelle was not a theater person, nor a play person, nor a New York City person.  She was truly the audience her play would need to appeal to if it were to go anywhere.

“Well, I am not an expert, but yeah – it’s funny, and it’s heartfelt and the ending is so,” she was looking for the word.

“Ridiculous?” May Alice worried.

“No, _no_.  It’s . . . _hopeful_.  That’s so unlike you.”  Chantelle had said that last bit before realizing it might not sound so flattering.  She was waiting for May Alice’s reaction, which was only a nod of agreement.

“It is not like me,” she agreed thoughtfully, “It’s like . . . my mother.”  That was a revelation to May Alice. Never had she believed anything of her mother was inside her.  But now, she was rethinking that, and it made her happy.

The phone rang in the Culhane house at 9:30 a.m. Thursday morning.  May Alice was still putting on her makeup, preparing for the arrival of Austin Wyatt later that day; she hoped the call was not him cancelling.  She was encouraged about her work following Chantelle’s review of the play, and she would be disappointed if Wyatt suddenly came to his senses and gave up already.

Chantelle appeared in the door of May Alice’s bathroom.  “Acadia’s been in the hospital since Sunday. Rennie’s been with her; Arlene refuses to go see her.”

“So, that was Rennie?”  Chantelle nodded.

“He asked if we could come by.  I told him that you were expecting a visitor from out of town today and he said he understands, but he sounds exhausted.”

“You should go, Chantelle.  You can help me set up and then go.  I’ll be fine.”  She sounded genuine, and Chantelle really was worried about Rennie, but didn’t want to alarm May Alice on this important day.

By 10:30 Chantelle had departed for the hospital, assuring May Alice she would check in with her as soon as she could.  May Alice was relieved that she hadn’t had time to worry about much in that hour between Rennie’s phone call and Chantelle’s departure, as they’d busied themselves with getting everything in order for Chantelle’s absence.

Chantelle found Acadia’s hospital room and was struck by the irony that Rennie almost looked more like the patient than the girl did.  He looked terrible; face unshaved, clothes that were, clearly, days-worn, and deep circles plagued his eyes.  Acadia looked, about, like she had the first day Chantelle had seen her weeks before.  She surmised that the girl had been sick the entire time, and she shuddered to think what condition she must have been when they admitted her if this is how she appeared after four days of treatment. 

Rennie welcomed Chantelle and brought her up to date on all that had happened.  Although he’d been there non-stop and was clearly tired, he’d absorbed all the pertinent information about Acadia’s condition, and Chantelle was impressed he could repeat it all to her.  After a couple hours, Rennie asked her if she needed to get back to May Alice.  When she assured him May Alice was covered, she began eo encourage him to leave the hospital for a while to get some rest.  Acadia had gone to sleep, and the doctors had given her a good prognosis.  The sepsis was about under control, they figured three more days of the IV antibiotics, and dialysis, would reveal that all she’d experienced was an untreated infection and not anything worse.  During the time spent together that day, Rennie divulged how things had gone at home and that, basically, he had nowhere to go.  Chantelle was outraged but didn’t let it show.  It was not her business, she reminded herself.  She suggested Rennie try the local YMCA to shower and sleep.  She reassured him the girl was in good hands, and that he couldn’t do himself much good with Arlene if he were exhausted.  He knew he’d have to face her soon and find a way to get back into his home.  He relented, and as they walked out of the hospital together, Chantelle asked him to call her if he needed anything at all.  He agreed and they went their separate ways. 

By the time Chantelle arrived back at the house, Wyatt had come and gone.  She was dying to know how the visit went and was disappointed to have missed meeting the man.  She was surprised to know May Alice was more interested in Rennie and Acadia than she was about disclosing the results of Wyatt’s visit.  Maybe it went badly, Chantelle thought.  She filled May Alice in on all that had happened with the girl and how her own mother was refusing to go see her.  They were polite when discussing Arlene’s reaction but were taken aback, nonetheless.

Once May Alice was convinced everything with Rennie was under control, for the time being, she told Chantelle, very matter-of-factly, that Wyatt and Lisa wanted to produce her play.  Chantelle was not sure she heard correctly because of the tone of voice, coupled with the stoic look on May Alice’s face, – but, as quickly, she knew she had heard right, because May Alice’s face turned to a huge grin and she shrieked, “ _Can you believe it?!”_

Chantelle swatted the woman on the arm and then laughed, and exclaimed, right along with May Alice, “Oh my God!”  She found herself actually jumping up and down, and clapping at the news.  She was truly happy for May Alice.  Finally, something was going her way.  “Oh! I have something for you,” Chantelle suddenly remembered.  “I’ll be right back.”  When she returned, she had two champagne glasses, and she popped open a bottle she’d bought the weekend prior.  May Alice’s eyes widened until Chantelle said, “Don’t get too excited, it’s sparkling cider.”  She handed a filled glass to May Alice, filled one for herself, held it up, then back down to clink May Alice’s glass, and said simply, but sincerely, “Well done, May Alice.” 

“How did you know?”  May Alice asked.

“I didn’t.  If he’d said he didn’t want it, I’d have toasted to wishing him a life surrounded by women like Ti-Marie and Precious,” she winked.

May Alice was touched.  _So much for being a big-time writer_ , she thought, because she couldn’t think of one apt thing to say to Chantelle right then.  Nothing seemed genuine enough.  Finally, after taking a sip of the bittersweet liquid, she settled for a quiet, “Thank you, Chantelle.”

“You’re welcome,” her friend replied.

The evening prior, on his way to check in at the Y, Rennie had stopped at Woolworths and grabbed some fresh clothing.  Then he’d eaten a little, showered, and shaved with amenities provided at the Y, and fell promptly asleep.  When he awoke the next morning, it was 9:30 a.m. and he realized, he’d slept for ten hours.  He dressed, and left for the hospital. 

Upon his arrival, he noticed several police cruisers near the main entrance.  As he approached the doors, a uniformed officer approached him and asked for identification.  As the officer looked at Rennie’s license, he radioed to someone that the father had arrived.  He then asked Rennie to follow him inside, into the lobby.  What he learned in the next minutes, by that officer, and a lieutenant Maris, who came from the elevator inside the hospital, was that Acadia had been taken from the hospital in the early morning hours that day.  The fact that Rennie arrived there was confirmation he’d not likely been the party responsible for her removal, a fact the police surmised based on the hospital staff’s description of him and his concern for the girl the days prior.  They asked him if it was possible his wife had taken the girl.  They explained they had descended upon his home an hour before and found it abandoned.  They were demanding to know so many things, but all Rennie could process was that Acadia was gone.

Once he was able to think clearly again, he began answering the questions.  Yes, it was possible his wife’s people had removed the girl.  The hospital actually had some surveillance cameras showing the removal of the child around 3:20 a.m., but the figures carrying her were all shrouded by clothing covering most identifiable features.  All they had gleaned, so far, was that there had been five people, all with heads covered, so, even gender was not specific.  In a perverse effort to calm Rennie, Maris explained that kidnappings for ransom, or abuse, usually only involved one, or two people, but this one had all the earmarks of a familial abduction.  Rennie was certain it was, also, but was deeply disturbed to think someone could have stolen his child in order to abuse her.  It never dawned on him that, in fact, someone did exactly that; Acadia was being abused, in the form of neglect.

Rennie disclosed that Arlene’s extended family, and the seat of the congregation they all belonged to, was in Baton Rouge, and he believed she’d be there and that the other children would be with her.  The lieutenant assured him they would be descending on the area soon, with Baton Rouge police and sheriff’s assistance, and he added that the FBI had been alerted, but since the abduction likely did not involve crossing state lines, they would not be actively involved just then.  Finally, he said, “Mr. Boudreaux, we fully expect to find the girl, and have her returned shortly.”  Rennie, however, was not so sure.  In the days he’d spent alone at the hospital with the her, he about concluded that the version of Arlene he knew and had loved, had been a myth.  Complete strangers could have abducted Acadia, it would have felt the same to him.  Maris instructed Rennie he should go home and wait for word from, either his family, or the authorities.  He was numb.  He had the urge to sneak up to Acadia’s room and see for himself, but he knew, neither the hospital, nor, the police would likely allow it.  He sat, motionless in the lobby where the police had briefed him, simply unable to move.

A nurse, who had been one of Acadia’s attendees, was exiting the hospital after having been interviewed by the police in the hours since the girl’s abduction.  She stopped, and approached the worried man, and introduced herself.  He remembered her.  She said how sorry they all were that Acadia had been taken, and he thanked her.  Then, as she started to leave again, Rennie asked her, “What will happen to her?”  The nurse was uneasy.  She didn’t want to add to the man’s misery, but the truth was, the longer Acadia went without the antibiotics and IV, the more likely the infection would return.  She wanted to say that kids are amazing, and resilient, and she’d probably be fine; instead, she told him his daughter may have had enough treatment to carry her through this. 

“We’ll be praying for her,” she assured him.

About mid-day, the local news stations had all picked up the abduction story and descended on Rennie’s house.  He managed to pack some clothes, and push past the few news people, without comment.  He figured he’d go back to the Y but found himself, instead, in May Alice’s driveway.

“Rennie’s here,” Chantelle announced.

“Maybe that’s a good sign, if he’s able to leave Acadia, some?”  May Alice said, having no idea what the day had brought.

They were saddened to learn about the awful events of the morning.  The women insisted he stay with them, in one of the spare rooms on the second floor.  The press would not know he would be there, obviously, no ransom for the children would be demanded, and he could let the police know where to find him.  He decided he needed to be with people he knew, and who thought the way he did about Acadia’s treatment.  Those were the people in, and around, Lafayette and, so, he agreed to stay.  What no one imagined was that his stay would last several days.  Not Maris, the police, nor sheriffs in Baton Rouge, had any luck locating the missing girl, her mother or her siblings.  Chantelle knew, like the other nurse did, that if the girl was not being treated, and the infection returned, the sepsis would, again, wreak havoc on all her organs.  Kidney damage could quickly follow, and maybe even. . . Chantelle would not let herself finish that last thought.

On the morning of the fourth day of his stay, and still no real word on the missing Boudreauxs, Rennie announced he’d decided to go down to New Iberia to bid on a fence job.  He said he’d be sure to contact the women throughout the day in case there was any word.  May Alice’s heart was breaking for her friend.  In those four days, all she could do was sit with him, and listen to whatever thoughts he cared to share with her.  She’d never seen Rennie so sad, and she didn’t know what to say to him, or how to help him.  She had mixed feelings about his leaving town that day, but Chantelle assured her that it was a way for him to cope.  Then, she reminded May Alice that she owed Lisa Teller and Austin Wyatt a phone call.  They’d both called in the past couple days and May Alice had not yet spoken with either.  She had been so busy trying to reassure Rennie, she’d forgotten about her own priorities.  

With Rennie scheduled to be gone for a good part of the day, May Alice returned the calls.  She explained to the pair the reason for her delay in responding.  Neither of the urbanites could understand what kind of people would deny their children medical treatment, and both asked what her friend would do once the girl was returned.  That was food for thought, as May Alice never considered the aftermath of Rennie’s ordeal.  

Lisa and Austin moved on to explain they’d been trying to contact May Alice to discuss a temporary optioning of the play.  Wyatt believed that he could produce a skeleton version of her play that would give bigger production companies a chance to see the potential of the satire.  It was not an unusual arrangement for plays that were not musicals, and May Alice was pleased Wyatt would be willing to front that version.  The legalities, of course, needed to be worked quickly so that logistics could ensue, he explained.  Then, the trio moved on to timing.  Austin was already looking at a small theater in Manhattan that would be available in February.  That meant they’d need to start casting in January.  They needed some idea about the amenities May Alice would require while in New York, and could she be there late January, through, at least, the end of March?  May Alice was stunned to realize this was actually going to happen.  She had no answers for the pair.  She was quickly becoming overwhelmed.  She’d forgotten the pace of things in New York, so radically different from life on the bayou.  She needed to get with the program, so, she did what she was best at; she began _acting_ like she had it all under control.

“FedEx me the contract for the option; I have a local attorney lined up to read it whenever you’re ready,” she lied.  “Once we’ve completed that, I’ll get back to you with a list of the amenities, and I can’t imagine our being there through March is any issue, if your schedule sticks,” she said, with faked confidence.  At the conclusion of the extended phone call, May Alice took a deep breath to clear her mind, and figure out how to deliver on what she’d just fudged her way through. 

Rennie returned from New Iberia around 4:00 p.m. that day.  He asked, already knowing the answer, of news about Acadia.  The women confirmed, none of the authorities had called the Culhane number that day.  Rennie was quieter than usual, if that were possible.  He ate very little at supper but commented that the food was really good.  Chantelle pointed out that, at least, the local news had already seemed to have moved beyond the story; she’d seen nothing, that day, on the station.  He managed a small smile at that, and again, May Alice felt her heart breaking for the poor man. 

She tried to take his mind off Acadia for a moment.  “How does the fence job look?”

He smiled at her attempt, and detailed what was involved, appreciative of the distraction she was trying to provide him, and grateful for conversation that did not center on his missing children.  Truth was, Rennie always liked talking with May Alice, no matter what the subject; he liked her voice and the thoughtful way she spoke.  He had grown quickly to learn her moods and was never put off by them.  If she were having a particularly bad day, he would simply acknowledge the change in her, and try to let her be.  He understood the nature of wounded animals and their need for space, for healing.  He reasoned she was not so different in that regard.  Nevertheless, more often than he should, and especially in the four days past, he felt himself wanting to hold that wounded woman, if just to let her know it would be all right.  He genuinely knew May Alice would be all right, too; he’d known her parents.  He knew they were made of the right stuff, as they say, so, there was no question in his mind that May Alice was also.  Even though he didn’t see the confidence in her, that her parents seemed to exude.  He wished that were different.  He also wondered if she ever dreamt about him the way he sometimes did about her.  Had she known all he was thinking in those few moments, she’d have known her distraction was working.

Later that evening, Rennie announced he’d like to turn in early, and did just that.  The time allowed May Alice to approach Chantelle about the idea of her going to New York.  That discussion was paramount to the rest of the issues up for consideration.  If she said no, May Alice could get another nurse, but she truly dreaded that thought.  She was comfortable and confident with Chantelle, feelings that New York, would not afford her this time.  Returning would be the hardest thing she could imagine.  People she knew, and her fans all gawking, or worse, pitying her?  She couldn’t stand that thought.  Then, there would be the special accommodations, worrying about eating on her schedule, and even the drinking, or, more specifically, the not drinking, which was just, so, _un-New York_.  And she had been very New York, after all; right up until the time she fled.  There were many more days than not, in which May Alice believed herself a fraud, and she was certain Lisa and Austin would figure that out when they read her play.  But they hadn’t; they liked it; liked it so much they were willing to fund the pre-production in hopes of eventually having it picked up by a larger production house.  If Chantelle were to sign on, too, she might finally allow herself to believe, maybe, she wasn’t such a fraud after all. 

The women talked until late in the evening.  They covered a lot of ground, and May Alice was touched that Chantelle’s questions were solely about May Alice and her needs, not a word about pay, or where she’d stay, or what she’d do while May Alice was working.  Maybe she’d not had time to think about those things, but the fact that she was still putting May Alice first, always, was starting to sink in, and it served both, to comfort, and deflate her.  She wanted to be more attentive to Chantelle’s needs, but she felt she always fell short, and she didn’t like it.  It was not how she was raised.  In an effort to rectify that, she stopped the conversation for a moment, finding just the right words.  “Chantelle, I have not even thought to ask you if you _want_ to do this?”  Chantelle didn’t answer, oddly struck that she didn’t know the answer, right off.  So, May Alice continued, “You don’t have to answer me now.  Sleep on it.  It’s a lot to consider, I know.”  She didn’t really know, she’d never thought about it, but she did want to then, and she needed Chantelle to, also.

The conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.  If May Alice could have jumped out of her seat, she would have.  Instead, Chantelle bolted to the living room and picked up the phone.  May Alice could surmise, immediately, it was word on Acadia.  She held her breath, frightened for what would be said, and not wanting it to alter Rennie’s life any more than it already had.  Chantelle was calm, and listening intently.  She confirmed Rennie was there, and she would get him on the line.  As she moved toward the stairs to get him, Chantelle confirmed it was Lieutenant Maris calling.

May Alice whispered, “Well?  How does he sound?” 

Chantelle looked back over her shoulder as she reached the stairs and whispered back, “I don’t know - _like a detective_!”

May Alice waited impatiently, rolling her wheelchair forward and backward, awaiting the arrival of Rennie, and the rest of the news.  Rennie bounded down the stairs, still in a bit of stupor from having been roused from sleep.  He picked up the receiver, and slowly, seemed to come out of his daze.  He was as calm as Chantelle had been, as he muttered the occasional, yes, and uh-huh, to Maris.  He then reached for the pen and pad next to the phone and scribbled something down.  Finally, he thanked the lieutenant, and said he would await the car, which puzzled both women. 

When Rennie hung up, he bent over and took a deep breath.  When he rose, he smiled at the women and said, “They have ‘em.  Arlene turned up with Acadia in a Baton Rouge hospital.”  Both women sighed along with him, and offered their encouragement and happiness at the news.  Then he continued, “They’re sending a sheriff for me, to get me to the hospital there.”  Chantelle said she’d make a pot of coffee, and instructed him to go upstairs and get dressed, and pack himself a small bag.  May Alice didn’t know what to do.  She picked up the note Rennie had scrawled on the pad, and followed Chantelle into the kitchen with it. 

“Oh my God, Chantelle, I think they’ve arrested Arlene,” she said holding up the pad.  Chantelle turned to May Alice and they both stared at one another for a moment taking in that news.  Then they began discussing the various scenarios awaiting the Boudreaux family.  They spoke in hushed whispers knowing that Rennie would be down any moment.  When he did arrive, he’d done as Chantelle suggested, and was holding a small bag.  He stood in the door of the kitchen, suddenly, not sure what to do next.  May Alice motioned for him to come in and sit at the table and Chantelle brought a cup of hot coffee over to him.  He held it, but didn’t drink it, just stared into the blackness, the perfect metaphor for the past few days of his life. 

May Alice stared at him and began to realize she’d never seen Rennie so adrift.  She’d thought about Rennie a lot in the months she’d been back.  At first, he was mostly a reminder of her childhood, which in comparison to her adult life in New York, now seemed a lot less agonizing than she’d recalled.  She remembered the hellraising, thin, strong boy with the long, wavy hair, who used to trade stares with her so long ago.  The boy with iron values, and truth to his words, and she could recall his wry sense of humor.  She was happy that she could still find those same features in him twenty years later.  Nostalgia was not all that kept May Alice from wanting Rennie around.  More than once, since she’d returned, she been aroused by him.  She always felt the lean, cut muscles of his shoulders whenever he’d hold her, after removing her from her wheelchair, while getting her into or out of his boat, and more often than once, she wished he’d just keep on holding her. 

That evening, however, sitting there at her kitchen table, those thoughts didn’t come immediately to mind.  All she felt was sorrow for his predicament, for what he’d gone through, and what was still to come; she was sad for herself, too, because she had no idea what to say to him, or how to help.  She was simply resigned to reach across the table and take his free hand in hers.  He held it tightly, and even looked up from his coffee cup and managed a small smile for her.  The intensity in his eyes at that moment took her by surprise.  In an instant, she felt tears welling in her eyes.  She broke the eye contact, and pulled her hand away, like she’d touched a hot stove.  He was startled by that response but said nothing.  She mentally chastised herself for being so abrupt, but also, for permitting herself to feel such emotions about this man; this married man.  She wheeled her chair back from the table and over to the pantry to retrieve a tissue and compose herself.

Chantelle was also surprised by the little scene before her, for May Alice to show such emotion.  There were days when, even Chantelle, upon seeing the desperation, frustration, or anger, that May Alice often endured, wanted to cry for her, but even on those, days May Alice rarely broke.  In fact, Chantelle had only seen it happen one time, within the first days of her arrival.  To see tears forming in May Alice’s eyes now, over someone else’s pain, was not something Chantelle thought she’d ever see.  Finally, she broke the silence, offering Rennie a second cup of coffee, even though he’d barely touched his first.  He declined, and shortly after, they saw the lights from the sheriff’s cruiser arriving in the driveway.  Chantelle said a quick goodbye to him, and reminded him to call if there was anything she could do.  He nodded at her and she exited the kitchen leaving Rennie and May Alice alone.

Rennie picked up his bag and made his way to May Alice, who had silently cursed herself into composure.  She had turned the chair back around to face him, but still could not speak.  She could find no words to say, and she was fearful that she might say something she shouldn’t.  Rennie bent down and took her chin in his hand then brought his face to hers and kissed her on the mouth.  A sweet, gentle, yet, solid kiss, and then he turned from her, and left.  May Alice found herself no only, still speechless, but breathless.


	8. 8

**Chapter 8**

The women slept until mid-morning following Rennie’s departure.  They were preparing a light lunch, still a bit groggy from the early morning, and neither having slept all that well, hoping to hear word on everything from Rennie.  As they ate, and trying not to be consumed by the wait, May Alice brought up the subject of New York.  Specifically, she asked if Chantelle had any time, yet, to consider the trip.  Chantelle had run the gamut.  First, believing she wasn’t up to all the logistics involved to get May Alice from place to place, and keeping her on track physically.  Then, she worried about what her father would say about her going to New York, so soon after completing rehab; big city equals big temptations, she could hear him saying.  But then, she realized, this was her job; the job she needed.  Yes, New York City would prove to have many challenges for her, but she’d have to face temptations again, one day.  At least, right now, she reasoned, she’d be too busy with May Alice to invite any real trouble.  And, if she were totally honest, she was kind of excited at the thought of being an insider in the theater scene.  She’d been to New York City with her parents as a teenager, and she’d even seen two Broadway plays at the time, but she couldn’t imagine she’d ever be so close to the process.  She didn’t divulge any of that to May Alice, of course.  She simply presented the pragmatic.  “If you need me there, I’m prepared to go,” is what she said.

Remembering that she wanted to be nicer, and more attentive to Chantelle, May Alice said, honestly, “I need you there, yes, but I also want you there.”

“Okay,” Chantelle said, simply, as she cleared the lunch dishes from the table.  Once the dishes were done, she suggested May Alice get to her therapy, which they were late for, having slept in that morning.  “You know, maybe in New York, we can find a pool for you to use.  It would be a nice change in your exercise routine.  Oh, and we’ll have to let Louise know you’ll be gone for a while.”  This was how things would be going for them the next two months, in preparation for their stay in New York; continual reminders to each other of all the things that they’d need to do. 

It would be another five hours before they got word from Rennie about the scene in Baton Rouge.  He phoned as they were unloading groceries from their latest trip into town.  May Alice answered, and as Chantelle listened to the one side of the conversation, she noted that May Alice, while appropriately concerned, was also quite warm with Rennie.  Her voice was softer than usual and her words were caring, but not in a pitying manner. 

After the call, May Alice relayed all Rennie had updated her on.  He only had some basics, which included Arlene having taken Acadia to a hospital in Baton Rouge, the other kids were being retrieved by the police, from wherever Arlene had taken them, Acadia was alive, but was near full kidney failure, so, she was undergoing dialysis again.  He said the doctors still seemed confident she would recover, and that he had been able to see her, but he was not sure if she could tell he was there.  He sounded very sad, which made May Alice very sad.  He confirmed that Arlene had been placed under arrest, but would be released on her own recognizance since they didn’t think her a flight risk.  That was all he knew at the time, so he’d thanked May Alice for having allowed him to stay before, and he promised he would keep in touch with her. 

Rennie would later learn everything about the ordeal _.  Based on Arlene’s confession to police in the days following her arrest, they would learn that the elders of her church heard about Acadia having been taken from her mother and brought to a hospital where she was being “pumped full of narcotics.”  The elders convinced Arlene she needed to get Acadia out of there, and to a safe haven, where the elders themselves could pray over the child.  Three men from the congregation took turns watching the child’s room, awaiting a moment for Rennie, and the medical staff, to be gone long enough for them to remove the girl.  Once word came that Rennie appeared to be leaving, the men joined together to bundle and sneak Acadia out of the hospital.  Arlene, and another man had joined them, in effort to calm the girl, and assure her she would be all right.  The group, then, fled to a rural homestead, outside of Baton Rouge, where the elders, the remaining Boudreaux children, and Arlene gathered, in vigil, over Acadia.  The first day there, Acadia had become dehydrated, and was confused, and couldn’t move much.  The second day, her fever returned and the little girl, knowing what was happening to her again, began begging her mother to return her to Rennie.  At first, Arlene was defiant, and feared Rennie had filled the girl’s head with false promises of the devil’s potions they’d given to her, but, by the third day, Acadia was too ill to even beg, and that frightened Arlene more than any charlatan, or his narcotics.  It scared her enough to actually take the girl back from the elders as they slept, abandon her other kids, take a truck parked at the homestead, and deliver the girl to a hospital.  Ironically, Arlene, frantic with fear and not having driven in years, nor, remembering the area well, had nearly run a state trooper off the road in her zeal to get her daughter back to a doctor.  The trooper was able to get the woman to stop long enough to get her story.  Upon recognizing who the pair was, he placed them into his vehicle, and rushed them to the hospital in Baton Rouge, where he promptly placed Arlene under arrest, and alerted the other agencies in Lafayette Parish that the missing girl had been located._

_The arrest was a formality, really.  The authorities were certain Rennie would not press charges against his wife, and no D.A. had any great interest in prosecuting a mother who, eventually, did the right thing by her child.  If Acadia’s condition worsened, it would become a different story, but at the time, Arlene was looking at charges reduced from, accessory to kidnapping, to child endangerment, and she’d been released on her own recognizance while the various law enforcement agencies figured out the jurisdictional priorities._

That first day following Rennie’s reunion with Acadia and Arlene, the remaining Boudreaux kids had been retrieved from the homestead, and Rennie agreed to allow the authorities to take them to Arlene’s sister’s family in Baton Rouge until they could assess Acadia’s condition.  No arrests were made on Arlene’s accomplices, since, no one would divulge who they were. 

When Arlene had returned to the hospital following her arrest and release, she had no idea what to expect from Rennie.  He was as angry with her, as he was with himself, for thinking Arlene’s religion couldn’t hurt their kids.  To realize Acadia could die was more than he could process, rationally.  Arlene approached him tentatively, and when he made eye contact, she could see his jaw bone moving from clenching his teeth.  She had never seen him that angry, or intense, and it frightened her so much she stopped her approach.  She mustered the courage to try to talk to him.  “Rennie, I,” as quickly as she started, she was, again, struck by his intense stare, as though he were daring her to say something he could attack her for.  So, she looked down, and continued with a feeble, “I’m sorry.”

He was geared for a fight, he fully expected she would defend her choices, and her religion, but when she didn’t, some of his ire relented.  “It ain’t enough,” he said firmly.

After a few more moments of silence between them, Arlene chose a seat near him in the ICU waiting lobby, and re-opened dialogue.  “Have they said any more about her condition?  Did you get to see her?”

He answered her stoically, “They don’t know yet; they’re just trying to get the infection under control and get her hydrated.  I can only see her every hour, for a few minutes.”  They sat in silence for another forty minutes before Rennie had the ability to speak to her again.  There were so many things he’d not talked to her about for the better part of the last eight years, he didn’t know where to begin.  He opted to start with the immediate.  “What are you going to do now, Arlene?”  She was confused, and didn’t answer, so, he continued, “Either you believe in your church, or you don’t.  You brought her here, so what does that mean?” 

“I . . . I don’t know.  I just knew she was sick, and prayer wasn’t working.  I guess I’m just not worthy enough,” she said sadly. 

“So, you think her getting sick was your fault?”

“Yes, of course.  Kids don’t just get this sick.  I have not been a good wife to you.  I haven’t delivered you to God like a good wife would have.  I guess, I hoped that if I could do right by our children, it would be enough for God to forgive me.  Instead, he wants to take one from us.  It’s a warning.” 

Rennie could not believe what he was hearing.  How could a religion so bastardize the will of God?  He’d known a lot of different people, with a lot of different beliefs, but he had no idea that this is what his own wife’s doctrine was.  Again, he cursed himself for never having learned these things, never having asked her before then.  “This is not something I can support, Arlene.”

“I know, but it’s because I am unable to make you understand, and this is why Acadia is being made to suffer; to punish me for my failure.”

His mind was racing, wanting to say a hundred different things all at once.  “Our child had a kidney infection.  That’s all.  It happens, kids do just get sick.  It ain’t God punishing her, or you, or me.”  He knew she would not believe him, but he had to say it.  He had to let her know he would no longer let her, blindly, raise his children.  “If you continue to believe these things,” he said, “I will not stop you.  But I won’t allow you to involve the kids any longer.”  He was staring at her intently, and she knew it was no bluff.  She’d not seen this side of Rennie since their first few years together, and she’d all but forgotten how passionate he could be about family.  She was shocked into silence by the words, what their implications were, and by his quiet ferocity.  She didn’t speak again for the rest of the night.  She had much to think about, and the more she thought, the more lost she became.  Rennie had plenty he needed to sort out too.

Acadia would remain in ICU another three days.  In that time, Rennie, and Arlene would take turns sleeping, checking in on the other kids, and being at the hospital.  A local chaplain, no doubt having heard about the girl and what led her to becoming so ill, had dropped in several times during those days to offer prayer, and general counseling to Rennie.  Rennie liked the man, who he learned, was also a Catholic deacon in a Baton Rouge parish, and was only one month older than Rennie.  Deacon Leon spoke with Rennie about many things, not just Acadia, or illness, or recovery, or even God.  He just lent a gentle air of serenity to Rennie, which was, of course, quite welcomed.  Rennie was not sure if the deacon had spoken with Arlene, in the times she was around, but he hoped, if he had, that Arlene might find the same relief in the man’s words that he did.  Bolstered by his visits with Deacon Leon, Rennie hoped Arlene might come to see that Acadia’s treatment was working and, thus, God was not smiting her.  He hoped, against hope, that his removing the children from the worship might serve to have her question her beliefs, enough for them to find middle-ground.  He knew she loved their kids, but he worried she didn’t love them as much as she loved the unreasonable god she worshipped.  He’d mentioned this once to the deacon, who nodded his head, and said it reminded him of a quote by D.L. Moody and he spoke it for Rennie.

“‘Obedience means marching right on whether we feel like it or not.  Many times we go against our feelings.  Faith is one thing, feeling is another.’  Perhaps,” he offered, “Mrs. Boudreaux has mistaken one for the other?”  Rennie wasn’t sure the exact relevance just then, but something about it made him feel better. 

On the third day, Acadia’s condition stabilized, but the dialysis had done all it could.  The doctor broke the news that the girl would lose a kidney.  The sooner they removed it, the better, they explained.  The surgery, its implications, and the prognosis, all sounded terrible, but Acadia would survive and that was really all Rennie cared about.  He did not ask Arlene, but told her, they would consent to the surgery.  Due to the hardship of the displaced family, it was arranged that Acadia would be transported back to the medical center in Lafayette for the surgery, and her recovery.  Not surprisingly, only Rennie signed off on all the consent forms.  He directed Arlene to retrieve their other kids, and he put them all on the bus for home the following day.  As he detailed the plan to her, he reminded her that she was, essentially, free on bail, and it would not be a good idea to take off to any other place but to their home, where she should stay with the other kids.  She was still reeling from the entire ordeal and was not in any position to do anything else anyway, but he needed to keep her focused on the issues at hand and deal with her crisis of faith later.

Rennie was allowed to ride in the ambulance with Acadia as they transported her back the following day.  As they loaded the girl into the ambulance for the trip, Rennie was happy to see Deacon Leon approaching.  He hoped he’d have a moment to thank the man for his kind support.  The deacon asked Rennie if he would mind if he prayed a moment with Acadia.  Rennie stepped aside and did not hear what the man said, but Acadia had a broad smile upon the conclusion of the brief meeting and, again, Rennie was left with a hopeful feeling about the days ahead.  The men shook hands and parted unceremoniously.  The ambulance arrived, mid-day in Lafayette, and the rest of the afternoon was spent reassessing the girl’s condition with her former doctor and, then, a surgeon.  Rennie had been so inundated by the preparations, he’d not had time to think about Arlene, or the other kids, nor had he updated May Alice and Chantelle.

The latter two had continued their daily routines, while incorporating small deviations needed to prepare for their extended stay in New York.  They both worried, and feared that no news about Acadia was bad news.  But, in addition to the worry, May Alice tried not to think about how much she was missing her friend.  Rennie’s visits had helped her assimilate, helped return her to her ground.  She had feared returning to Louisiana after her accident; feared she would not fit in; feared she would.  Mostly, she feared being overwhelmed by the absence of her beloved parents, who filled every memory she had of her old house.  Remembering those first days now, she recalled how close she’d come that.  Returning to the house for the first time in twenty years, having to be carried in, by her first, and worst nurse, “Ilsa, the she-beast,” she thought she might burst into tears, but she felt if she did, she would never have stopped.  She was not about to give that horrid woman the satisfaction of seeing her broken by the grief of all her losses.  Each day that followed that first one, offered new challenges that had kept her mind off missing her parents, and further served to keep her from properly mourning them.

Rennie’s reappearance in her life had come at just the right time.  She had found some stability with Chantelle, but she was still drinking, and that was clouding her outlook about having a livable future.  Rennie was the sunshine behind those clouds.  From that first day she’d seen him, building a ramp to her front door, his presence reminded her of how happy she really had been growing up.  With Rennie, her memories were not followed by sadness, but rather by comfort; the way you are cheered by being in a foreign place and unexpectedly seeing someone you know there, too.  May Alice was surprised to realize that just thinking about missing him, still provided her some comfort in his absence.  But she was still wishing he was there, offering her encouragement to make the trip to New York.  Then it dawned on her, Rennie had no idea about her endeavor, nor, that she and Chantelle would soon be gone.  It also dawned on her how selfish that sounded, and she was ashamed how often she returned everything to being about her.

Late in the evening, the day of his return with Acadia from Baton Rouge, Rennie finally appeared at their door.  They were happy to see him, but taken aback by his appearance.  He could barely even smile for them; he was disheveled, and hadn’t shaved.  His face was drawn, and he seemed thinner than he had only a week ago.  Chantelle hesitated even reaching for his arm, fearing it would come right off in her hand.  May Alice was a bit more composed.  Perhaps, so happy at seeing him, she didn’t see anything else, or, perhaps, because she’d lived her own share of prolonged, horrible days in the past eight months.  Regardless, she ordered him in and directed him to the kitchen table.  Chantelle followed suit, joining them in the kitchen and then proceeding to make Rennie some hot tea.  Once seated, Rennie began updating the women.  He started with Acadia’s impending surgery, which, rightfully, was worrying him the most at the moment.  He looked to Chantelle and she immediately sat beside him explaining how lots of people function fine with only one kidney and he seemed relieved by that; he’d not thought beyond the surgery.  He then explained where the other kids were, and how Arlene was with them.  He didn’t elaborate on why she was not in jail, nor what the future held for her.

As soon as May Alice believed they knew all they needed to for the moment, she asked Rennie to stay the night, again, in the guest room.  Her words echoed those of Chantelle the week prior telling him he needed sleep if he were going to be any good to anyone.  He understood, but he had a need to see his other children.  He thanked the women for their hospitality and assured them he would be all right.  As he approached the door to leave, he turned and asked Chantelle if she might be able to join him the following day during Acadia’s surgery.  She assured him they would be there, knowing there was no way May Alice was going to stay behind on that one. 

Rennie returned home.  He was relieved to see that no one was awake.  Arlene had obviously kept the other kids on schedule with bedtime, and she, too, must have been asleep, as no lights were on anywhere in the house.  He padded down the hallway, looking in on each of the two rooms housing his children.  Upon seeing them, where they should all be, all sleeping safe, and soundly, he entered the bathroom, stripped off the clothes he’d been wearing the past two days, and took a very hot shower.  He barely had memory of leaving the shower and falling asleep on the couch where he awoke six hours later to the sounds of Arlene stirring in the kitchen.

He rose from the couch and made his way into the kitchen.  Arlene had coffee brewing and was cracking eggs into a bowl for the kids’ breakfast.  She looked up at Rennie.  “You need a shave,” she said, and then looked back down to the bowl, and began mixing up the eggs.

“Acadia is having surgery today, Arlene.”  She stopped stirring the eggs for a moment, but did not look up and did not respond.

“She will want to see you before,” he said, guessing it would be true. 

“The kids are not wanted back at the congregation school,” she said, oddly.  Then, returning to the situation at hand, she said, “I don’t want them at the hospital.  Of the two of us, she’ll want you there with her.  You can call me as soon as it’s over.”  Knowing there was nothing to be gained by having her and the other kids there, with him being as worried as he was, he didn’t argue. 

Soon the other kids were up.  Once they realized their daddy was home, they rushed him with hugs, and kisses, and a million questions about Acadia.  He tried to reassure them she was going to be fine, but, he did say that she was still sick and needed to stay away for a while longer.  They all ate breakfast together, a rare treat because, usually, Rennie would be off to work with the sunrise.  As Rennie enjoyed the scene, he felt a small sense of sadness that he’d not made room for himself in his own family.  His kids spent all but, maybe, three hours a day with him in it.  He wondered what his father would think.  His dad, for all his wild ways, had always been the center of his life, right alongside his mother, until she had passed.  Eventually, he had to let the morning end.  Everyone had places to be that day.  Rennie got up from the table and motioned for the kids to go and get dressed. 

When they were all away, Rennie said to Arlene, “Maybe you should look into the public school; see if they’ll let Sabine and Missy in?”  He knew how that would sound, callous and cold, and, as though he did not understand that their no longer being welcome in the church school had much bigger implications, but he needed Arlene to know she could not just let the situation ride.  He was not going to back down on her having free reign over the kids any longer.  It was not his intention to remove the kids from the school, initially, but if the church school wanted them out, so be it.  Arlene continued to clear the breakfast table and did not respond.  He left the room, to shave, and dress, and left the family thirty minutes later.

May Alice had been too restless to fall asleep the night following Rennie’s reappearance.  She was, of course, worried about him and worried about Acadia.  She was worried about being at the hospital with Rennie’s wife and kids.  She was making herself crazy, and she was genuinely tired.  She decided to invoke an old acting technique to calm her mind and allow herself to relax enough to get some sleep.  As she drifted off, she had a dream.  She’d had this particular dream before, but this time it was slightly different from what she’d recalled other times.

_She is on the boat dock, dangling her feet in the water.  She looks up and sees Rennie, bent down, working a couple feet away on the other end of the dock.  He is shirtless.  She stands up on the dock, and walks over to him.  He reaches up toward her, placing his hand on her hip._  The dream always started that way, but this time, instead of her bending to him, like the previous times, _he stands and she takes his hand from her hip and moves it over her stomach._   Then, the dream continued, as it had before, _they begin to kiss.  They’re interrupted by the sound of Chantelle, across the water on an island.  She is holding the hand of a little girl and waving, yelling, “May Alice, I found her!”_ Always the dream stopped there, but that night, it continued. _May Alice looks at Rennie smiling, happy that Chantelle has found the child.  Rennie bends down and places a kiss on her stomach then looks up at her with his deep amber eyes and says, “libre de la misère,” and he rises, again, to his feet and wraps May Alice in his arms._

When May Alice awoke, she tried to recall the dream.  She knew she’d had it again, and knew it had changed, subtly, but just as she felt she was about to remember, it would slip away, leaving her mind clouded.  She thought about trying to go back to sleep, in hopes it would repeat, but she could not.  She needed to get up, they had an eventful day ahead.


	9. 9

**Chapter 9**

The morning of Acadia’s surgery, the little girl had woken up with the sun and, for the first time since she’d returned to the care of hospitals, she seemed a little scared.  As Rennie moved to reassure her, she looked him in the eye and said, “What will happen to me after?” 

“How do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I will get the devil’s medicine,” she said.  “If it makes me well, I’ll be a demon and Maw, my sissies and Jaxon won’t love me anymore.  Where will I live?”  She asked honestly, with tears welling in her amber eyes.  Rennie’s heart had never been broken before that moment.  He was overwhelmed and it showed.  His, like-amber eyes, formed their own tears as he realized the enormity of what his little girl had been carrying around.  He took her hand in his, brought his face close to hers, and they shared their tears for a moment, while he fought down the anger, and searched for words adequate enough to counteract her terrible belief.  He tried to think what Deacon Leon might offer to either of them in that moment.

“You are _not_ a demon _,”_ he said fiercely.  “Not now, not ever.  Your Maw loves you, and I love you, Acadia,” he squeezed her hand hard and continued, “I love you more than everything in this world.  God, not the devil, has given these people the medicine to treat your body and make it well.” She didn’t seem convinced so he continued, “You remember my friend, Miss May Alice?” he asked.  Acadia nodded, and seemed eager to hear something she could believe.  “Remember how I told you she was hurt real bad?”  Again, the girl nodded.  “She spent a lot of time in a hospital, much longer than you.  And she had a surgery, kind of like you; but instead of losing a kidney, she lost the feeling in her legs.  Do you think she is a demon?”

“No Pa, she seemed real nice,” she answered, recalling the chance meeting with May Alice in the café.

“She is nice,” he confirmed.  Finally, he added, “You are God’s child, sweetheart.  God is not going to allow any demon to claim you; I promise you that.  Look over there,” he pointed to the wall on the side of her bed, more grateful than ever, to be in a hospital named for a saint, for, the room housed a painting of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus.  “I think they are here watching over you.  No demon is welcome here.  You can bet on that.”  He pulled out the handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped what was left of Acadia’s tears, then did the same to his own face and nose.

She pondered the painting.  No one could have ignored the passion in Rennie’s words, not even a ten-year-old.  The combination served her well; he could see her relax.  He still held her hand tightly for another few minutes before the staff began showing up to prep her for the surgery, and even after, he stood by the wall with the painting, hoping, any time she searched for him, she would see him with the Divine others watching over her.

At some point, Rennie had to step out of the room to allow the rolling gurney in.  Once the girl had been transferred from her bed to the gurney, they rolled her into the hallway and he stayed alongside her until they reached the doors to the surgical floor.  The young male attendant, who rolled her gurney, locked it in place, and told Rennie another surgical attendant would be out shortly to take Acadia into surgery.  He gave Acadia a high-five, winked at her, and said, “See ya soon, pretty girl,” and left. 

“Should I be worried?” Rennie asked her mischievously, with a cocked eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood, but Acadia did not laugh. 

Again, she seemed apprehensive, but before he could ask her anything she asked him if he’d seen any “signs” about how things might go.  He knew what she was asking, and it meant the world to him that she’d remembered some part of the Cajun folklore he’d sometimes shared with her years ago, before her mother deemed it all voodoo.  He had not been out of the hospital much, so, hadn’t the chance to “read” the wildlife, as the folklore she referred to, would have, maybe, foretold.  So, he made something up, as any good father would do.  “As a matter of fact, yes, I have,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.  He saw her face perk up, which only encouraged him.  “Just last night, as I drove away from home, I saw a hummingbird on that pink flower bush outside your bedroom window.  It’s late in the season for them, you know?  The fact that this one was out is a sign that he was getting all the food he needed to stick around for the winter.  Ya see, he didn’t have to leave home.  That’s a rare, and good sign, Acadia.”  It was 100% bullshit, but he decided it would be a good sign, if he had, in fact, seen such a thing.  The pink crepe myrtle that grew wild outside the girls’ room at home was Acadia’s favorite, as were hummingbirds.  It was a natural, lovely lie, and she smiled a smile that gave him renewed hope that everything would be all right.

Another surgical attendant arrived and assured the girl that everything was going to be fine.  She would be done in no time and would finally, feel better again soon, “Maybe by Thanksgiving, and certainly by Christmas,” he promised.

Rennie was pointed to the surgical waiting room.  He smiled upon finding May Alice and Chantelle already there.  He greeted them, and thanked them for coming.  With the events of the morning he’d forgotten he’d invited them.  He filled them in on, none, of the events of the morning, other than to say the girl seemed all right about going in to surgery. 

After half an hour, May Alice finally summoned the courage to ask the obvious.  She tried to sound casual when asking, “Rennie, is Arlene not coming?”  While she had been, wholeheartedly, relieved to not find the woman there when she and Chantelle arrived, now, her continued absence just seemed wrong.

“Ah. . . I guess not,” he said.  The women exchanged looks of disbelief as Rennie just looked down at the floor and offered no more.  After a few more minutes, they all took turns changing the subject for the next three hours while the surgery progressed. 

Finally, word came that everything had gone perfectly, and Rennie could see Acadia again in another hour.  When the surgeon left, the women suggested Rennie have some lunch with them in the cafeteria.  He did find that the relief of the news allowed for an appetite.  As they traveled the halls leading to the cafeteria, Chantelle asked Rennie if he should stop and call Arlene.  He thought a moment, then decided that was probably a good idea.  He excused himself as soon as they found a table that easily accommodated May Alice’s chair.  He insisted it would not take long and they should go ahead and get their food.  When he returned, only moments later, they wondered if he’d not reached her.

“Everything ok?” Chantelle asked.

“Yeah, she’s relieved.”  Those had not been her words, but it sounded true to Rennie.  When he’d reached her, he told her everything went well, and Acadia would be awake soon, she did seem relieved, and she’d thanked him for calling.  He offered to exchange places with her if she wanted to come down but she declined.  He was not in the mood to convince her, or even question her, because the thoughts Acadia had shared with him that morning suddenly came rushing back, and he’d hurried to hang up the phone.  Could his wife honestly think their first born was now a demon?  And if she’d not said it to her, herself, why would she allow anyone else to tell her child such a terrible thing?  He knew Acadia had not made the story up.  The thought made him sick and he quickly lost his appetite again.  The women noticed, as he only seemed to shift the food on the plate, but thinking about what he must be going through allowed them to just let him be.

After lunch, Chantelle suggested they leave him to attend to Acadia.  He agreed and thanked them again.  He hugged each of the women and assured them he would keep in touch.  Chantelle made sure he knew he could call anytime and if he needed them for anything, they would be available.  May Alice was uncharacteristically quiet.  As usual, she couldn’t find any words to offer, so consumed by what she thought he must be feeling, and questioning where the hell this girl’s mother was.

On the drive back, Chantelle asked the same question aloud, “Where the hell is that girl’s mother?”  May Alice shook her head but still couldn’t find words.  “Are you all right?” Chantelle asked, struck by her continued silence. 

“I guess I’m just . . . tired.”  It wasn’t a lie, she was actually physically, and mentally, exhausted.  The prolonged worry, Rennie’s absences, New York, the play, the holidays, all those things were ceaselessly filling her mind and had kept her from sleeping, but an equal truth was, she felt utterly helpless to comfort Rennie.

“Are you still staying up all night?” Chantelle asked.

“No; well, some - but not like before.”

“You need a proper bed, May Alice.”  Chantelle couldn’t understand why she insisted on sleeping on that ancient couch in the ground floor bedroom.  At first, it was just easier for her to get up from, but now, with her additional strength and tone, she could easily master an actual bed.  May Alice made a small humming sound but offered no response.  Upon their arrival back home, she made her way to that antique couch and fell immediately asleep.


	10. 10

**Chapter 10**

As time does, it continued on for May Alice and Chantelle in the weeks between Acadia’s surgery and the holidays.  It was a busy time for everyone.  May Alice had found a lawyer in New Orleans who specialized in entertainment contracts.  Robert Kohl was honored to represent a local celebrity.  He’d been familiar with the actress but was, neither aware she was originally from Louisiana, nor, that she’d returned following her accident.  Figuring it would only help his business, he took a cut on his hourly rate to claim her as a client.  He probably kicked himself after seeing the offer Wyatt and Teller had sent for the play option.  It was above scale; generous, because, for not being a straight comedy, or a musical, there was a fair amount of risk involved for any producer.  After speaking about what was, and was not, included for actually getting the script to production, the attorney pointed out that no provision had been made for “said creator” to bring along a nurse.  Chantelle’s presence was non-negotiable, and if May Alice should have been offended that Wyatt and Teller had not considered her, it was lost on her.  She didn’t miss a beat in telling Mr. Kohl that the omission was not an issue.  With that, he’d advised the offer was a solid one, and the contract was signed and returned in a matter of days.

Indeed, Chantelle’s joining her in New York did not pose a single obstacle, financially.  Earlier in the year, May Alice had been completely surprised to have received a sizeable check from her attorney in New York City.  It was the settlement from a civil action her attorney had, rightfully, filed on her behalf following the taxi cab accident.  He’d not asked to file it, he’d just assumed to, and in her months of rehab and recovery, she had neither, the drive, nor, the desire to deny him; she signed anything he’d sent her way.  It was a very good settlement, designed to carry her through to her geriatric years without the use of her lower half.  Upon seeing the numbers at the time however, she felt oddly criminal.  The taxi company’s insurance had paid every dime of her medical expenses; in fact, she was not aware of being out any money at all since January.  She had her own money besides; it seemed gauche to accept it.  It seemed everyone but May Alice understood the devastation her paralysis would have on her finances in the years ahead.  The fact that she was pulling in top pay at the time on the soap circuit, and her relatively young age, added considerably to the settlement figure.  Still, it had taken her to that moment in Kohl’s office to understand that the money might not be so much in the poor taste she’d thought it before.

From the moment the signed contract arrived in New York, daily phone calls had become the norm between Wyatt, Teller and May Alice.   Many discussions took place regarding characters, dialogue tweaks, blocking ideas; all were tried, retried, and tried again.  The weeks of November streaked past, and along with them, thoughts, and desires of Rennie had been pushed aside, both intentionally and not, by May Alice.  The practical factors in the decision to stop entertaining fantasies of Rennie were numerous.  There were cultural, and religious issues, and there was her ego.  While not a practicing Catholic, May Alice had been raised one, and was fully aware of the commandments she was breaking just by thinking about him.  In addition, even before her paralysis, and battered self-esteem, she knew she’d never wanted to be the other woman for any man.  Still, she knew she liked Rennie, and she liked his being around.  He was a good man, and she’d known so few of those in New York.  She knew from their many afternoons together, that summer, there was much more to him than what she’d imagined as a girl, and while she was learning those things about him, she hadn’t harbored lustful thoughts of him.  _No_ , she reasoned, _those thoughts always came after._   So, she maintained that nostalgia was the real reason she entertained those afterthoughts of him, and neither of them were those hormonal teenagers anymore so there was no sense in fantasizing about him now.  Adopting that very mature belief, and mixing it in with all the other reasons for rethinking Rennie, served her well in his absence. 

Thanksgiving week was upon them.  Dr. Blades and Denita were set to come, and Chantelle had been practicing ways to break the exciting news regarding New York City to her father. Telling him at Thanksgiving was a bit of a cop-out, she knew; waiting until he was softened, with the cheer of the holidays, and having May Alice to back her up, but she would need all the strength she could muster to face the good doctor, and the litany of concerns she’d imagined he’d have regarding the temptations of returning to a big city.

For this visit, instead of staying at the hotel in Lafayette, the pair would be staying at the Culhane house.  The house had five bedrooms in total.  Four on the second level, and a small one on the first that, until May Alice had returned home, served various purposes through the years; an office for her father, a craft room for her mother, and a who-knows-what room when Uncle Reeve’s had last been the sole resident of the home.  The rooms upstairs consisted of May Alice’s childhood room, left exactly as it had been the day she left for boarding school her sophomore year in high school.  The master suite, like May Alice’s room, had not been utilized since the exit of Reeve’s, and two additional guest rooms, one of which had become Chantelle’s, and the other, which had recently been inhabited briefly by Rennie, was the room in which Dr. Blades would stay.  After preparing the room with fresh linens, and dusting it, Chantelle opened the doors to the other rooms to allow more light into the upper floor.   It had never seemed dark to her before but that was likely due to her always needing to attend to May Alice on the lower floor for most of the daytime hours.  Now she reveled in how cozy the old house suddenly seemed with the sun beaming through the open windows and streaming into the hallway.

Upon opening the door to May Alice’s childhood room, she remembered the first time she’d peeked into it.  The frilly pastels of the fabrics were, very much, those of a young Southern belle, and very much, in contrast to the woman she knew.  Seeing the room again, that day, though, she could actually picture parts of that happy little auburn haired, freckle-faced kid who had lived there so long ago.  Denita would love the room, she thought.  A canopy bed, a chevalier mirror, old antique dolls . . . but, Chantelle wanted Denita with her, and besides, she’d never dream to ask May Alice to relinquish her room for anyone else, not when she’d had to give up so much already.  For all of May Alice’s tough, sarcastic, iron-clad, emotions Chantelle had also caught glimpses of deep, sentimental one’s in her, mostly all tied to the house.  It was no wonder that May Alice, not once, in the months she’d been home, asked to be brought upstairs.

“You know, May Alice,” she said as she came down the stairs, “that mattress in your room still seems like a good one.  It’s a good height.  We should think about having it set up down here.” 

“A canopy bed?  Down here?  Are you serious?”  She laughed.

“We wouldn’t need the whole frame; we could get you a new one.”

“I don’t want it down here,” she said solemnly, neither elaborating, nor, leaving the door open for more discussion. 

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and one day before the arrival of Denita and Dr. Blades, the women were busy finalizing the menu for Thursday, and making sure they’d bought everything they’d need for the traditional dinner.  Chantelle had only just begun to learn to cook under May Alice’s tutelage.  A turkey was going to be her most advanced lesson, and Chantelle was grateful to have May Alice’s instruction.  As they reminisced about past Thanksgiving’s, Rennie appeared at the back door of the kitchen.  “Afternoon,” he said with a tip of his baseball cap as he entered through the door.  The women welcomed him, as always, noting this had to have been the longest stretch of time they’d gone without seeing him since the summer.  It was understandable, of course; the man’s life had been turned upside down that fall.  They talked about Acadia, and learned how well she was doing.  Rennie told of the other kids, and how the two older girls were in public school now and seeming to like it.  They were allowed to play with kids in their neighborhood, which was more fun for them now that they attended the same schools.  When they’d come up to speed on all but Arlene, Rennie further avoided that subject, and asked, “So what have I missed here?”  He looked directly at May Alice, meeting her eyes with his intense amber ones.  “I bet you have a whole new gallery of pictures I’ve missed,” he said smiling.

May Alice found herself taking time to fully savor the comfortable, and happy feeling of his finally being back, and didn’t answer right off.  Chantelle helped out by saying, “Actually, Rennie – May Alice has some really big news to share with you.”  And with that, she took her customary leave of the room.

_Shit,_ May Alice thought, she was caught off guard, but then, meeting Rennie’s inquisitive expression, and her newly matured, alleged, lust-free attitude regarding him, she answered, and found her words flowed effortlessly.  “Yes, actually, I do have some news.”  She proceeded to tell him about the play she’d written, and sold, the producers who hoped to resell it, the absurdity of it all, and then finally, she admitted to him, but mostly to herself, that she would be leaving soon.  While that thought had seemed daunting before, as she detailed for him the whole evolution of it, she found herself becoming more animated about it, as though she could finally be excited about what it could mean for her.  To then, she’d not allowed herself that luxury, but maybe it was the excitement of the holidays, or just the chance to share it all with Rennie, she realized, she no longer felt sad about being apart from him.  In fact, she was finally feeling genuinely happy about the chance to return to New York. 

Rennie saw it too; he was stunned.  He wondered how he hadn’t seen it.  He truly had to be the blindest man on the planet, he thought.  _Of course, she’d never want to stay here, why would she?  What’s here for her?_   It was the happiest he’d seen her in all the time she’d been home, and it was while she was talking about leaving.  All he could do was look at her, he couldn’t even keep his smile for her.

May Alice didn’t know what she’d expected from him, but stunned was not it.  She’d convinced herself that in their weeks apart, Rennie had been getting his life back on track, wife included.  Although he’d not said a word about himself and Arlene, she believed it was because he might know she didn’t want to know.  In addition to the sheer gravity of his family situation the last several weeks, May Alice had worked hard to forget certain feelings for Rennie, and was really trying to appreciate him as just her good friend.  After all, that’s really all they were to one another; her reckless flirtation had needed to stop, she’d thought.  _Clearly, he wasn’t thinking of her, he’d not been around in a while, and even the calls had stopped after the first few days following Acadia’s surger_ y.  She knew, all too well, from her soap opera days, there was nothing like full-on, family angst to bond a couple together.  She needed to be a supportive friend to him, and she’d focused on that, it was part of what helped her conceive of spending all the weeks away in New York City.  She had successfully adopted that attitude, and it had worked, right up until the moment he’d looked at her.  Instantly, she felt her feelings for him creeping back with the gaze of his eyes upon her, and the familiar warmth his intensity enveloped her in.

Finally, he spoke, “That’s really great, May Alice.  I’m. . . I’m real happy for you.”  He was sincere, he was happy for her, but he was also very, very sad for all he thought it meant.

“Thanks,” she said absently, not sure what she was seeing in his reaction, not sure what else she should say, and feeling genuinely disappointed that he didn’t share her excitement.  When Chantelle entered back into the conversation, shortly after, they discussed all the preparations for the trip, and the timing and such, but the banter felt forced, and soon, Rennie said his goodbye and left.

Rennie didn’t come around again for weeks more.  In fact, he didn’t show up, the next time, until two days before Christmas.  In those weeks between, he’d been thinking a lot about May Alice, more than he should have, he thought.  Some days, he was happy to think how remarkable it was that she’d found her way back to writing, and how happy that would have made her parents.  Other days, he was sad, thinking about the little, tree lined dirt road to her home, and how it would soon be vacant again like so many years past; and, on rare occasion, he was angry.  Those were the harder days, because he didn’t want to think why he could be angry at anything having to do with May Alice. 

That Wednesday before Christmas, he’d returned late in the afternoon from New Orleans with toys purchased for the kids.  He’d been thankful that, for all of the oddness of Arlene’s religion, they’d always celebrated Christmas.  It was his most happy season because it usually meant tourism had slowed, and he’d made his money for the year, so, he could spend extra time with the kids enjoying the thrill of it all.  But this year was different.  He’d worked right up to that Wednesday, recouping the money he’d not made during the many weeks caring for Acadia.  The folks in the parish had, as always, found jobs for him to do, and they often overpaid him, just slightly, if ever there were lean months.  He’d done all right, and he was looking forward to the time with the kids.  Still, he wanted to see his friend.  He missed her, and he’d wanted to return to see her, but hadn’t made the time.  Every time he thought he could sneak in an hour, or so, to visit, he would be overcome by the memory of the excitement on her face when she was telling him about New York, and then he would remember his belief that she had nothing there worth sticking around for.  Regardless, this day, he would go and see her.  He needed to see her, and he would be genuinely happy to do so.  He owed them both that.

He pulled into the driveway, and made his way up the ramp he’d built for May Alice in, what seemed like, years ago to him, then.  He was enjoying the Christmas lights that appeared on the porch and around a few of the large trees in the front yard, wondering if Chantelle had done all that on her own.  He was cursing himself, again, for not making time to come by before and offering help, when Chantelle opened the front door to greet him. 

“Rennie Boudreaux, where the hell have you been?  Get in here!”  She smiled.

He smiled back at her, realizing he’d missed Chantelle, too.  “Joyeux noel,” he said, out of habit, as they shared an uncharacteristic, but, welcomed hug. 

“Oh, uh, joyeux noel right back to you, whatever that means,” Chantelle said under her breath as she ushered him into the kitchen, taking his jacket from him.  “May Alice!  It’s Rennie.”

May Alice was in her room, she’d seen the lights of Rennie’s truck coming down the drive, and was making her way into her chair, and out toward the kitchen.  “So it is,” she said, smiling at the sight of him.  He bent to fashion a hug and was struck by the scent of her perfume, or, what he assumed had been perfume all this time.  Perhaps it was just her, but whatever it was, it enveloped him along with the warmth of the embrace, and he found he had to force himself to let go of her.

“Joyeux noel,” May Alice said in a perfect French Cajun dialect.  “Sit, sit – tell us how everything is going.”

“No, you first.  I’ve been away too long.  I didn’t get to hear how your visit with your kin was,” he said, looking at Chantelle.

Chantelle began telling him the amazing time they’d had in the short Thanksgiving visit as May Alice poured everyone cups of hot apple cider.  Part of the joy, that Thanksgiving, Chantelle said, was in not having told her father about their trip to New York.  She had chickened out, the entire weekend, and now, she would have to tell him at Christmas.  Rennie wondered why telling her father was an issue, but she didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking.  He let her continue with other news and was happy to learn that Sugar LeDoux, and some of his boys, had been responsible for the Christmas light displays in the yard and that Chantelle hadn’t attempted it all on her own.  The women then summoned Rennie to check out the back yard, where more trees were lit up, and the entire boat dock was festooned with multi-colored lights that reflected beautifully off the water.  Next, the trio moved on to sharing favorite memories of holidays past, and Rennie eventually got around to mentioning he’d been to New Orleans that day to get the kids’ gifts, and asked if they’d like to see some of what he’d gotten. 

May Alice exclaimed, “You mean they’re not wrapped?”

“Oh.  I guess I didn’t really plan that far ahead,” he admitted, a little embarrassed.

“Well, go get them,” May Alice playfully demanded, “and Chantelle, can you get the wrapping paper from upstairs?”  The three went in three directions retrieving everything needed to wrap the gifts.

Two hours later, everything had been seen, played with, and wrapped, with the prettiest ribbons and bows Rennie could recall.  He’d enjoyed himself, and was happy to realize that, even when May Alice talked about Christmas in New York as the most beautiful she’d ever witnessed, his hidden sadness about her had dissipated enough for him to enjoy the delight that still danced in her eyes.  May Alice was happy, too.  She went to sleep that night not even realizing she had not harbored one, inappropriate, lustful, feeling for Rennie the whole night.  She was genuinely content to have spent time with him and knowing how much fun he was going to have with the kids at their ages.  It reminded her that Denita would be coming soon, too, and staying a whole week this time.  She hoped having family back in her home, even if it were not her own family, would make Christmas feel like Christmas once again.

Her hopes were not in vain.  From the moment Chantelle’s father and daughter arrived, the house was, once again, filled with life.  Chantelle and Denita were inseparable.  May Alice recalled the first time the doctor and the girl had visited, and she had thought Chantelle was probably a good mother, but at times, back then, she seemed more like a big sister to Denita than her mother.  At Thanksgiving, however, Chantelle displayed more confidence in her position in the girl’s life, and seemed to be moving back into what must have been her mothering role.  She was still tentative, May Alice had thought, but she was definitely improving.  Maybe her having written to the girl, so often, in between visits, had given her some platform to maneuver without the watchful eye of Dr. Blades because, by their return that Christmas, Chantelle was even more a changed woman.  She was fully confident in sharing requests regarding Denita with her father, instead of defaulting to his declarations.  She spoke to Denita like a loving mother, not a friend, not a sister.  She asked Denita, hard, mature questions, wanting to know what the girl was thinking about whatever topic seemed to be on her mind.  Denita blossomed, too.  She was still a quiet, polite, child but she joined in conversations with the adults, and she asked many, many questions about her surroundings, about her mother, about May Alice, about cooking, everything.  It had been so long since May Alice had spent any time with kids she, either didn’t realize, or, had forgotten how smart, and funny they could be.  She discovered herself watching the two incessantly.  She would catch Chantelle, sometimes, just staring at the girl while she colored, or played with her dolls, or spoke to her grandfather.  She wished she knew what Chantelle was thinking in those moments, but she realized the importance of not interfering with the metamorphosis she was witnessing by asking invading questions.  Instead, she found herself wondering if her own mother had ever looked at her in the same way.  She hoped she had, but feared she’d not.  Even more frightening than that, she feared she’d never have the capacity to feel anything as deep as what she believed Chantelle was feeling when she looked at her only child.

May Alice continued to find Dr. Blades a very interesting, although, serious man, and she would try to engage him, at least once a day, to give the mother and daughter some time alone.  She liked that he knew very little about her, about her former life, and profession.  He mostly knew her as his daughter’s employer, and while that felt a little elitist, she was happy to not have to revisit how things used to be with her life, before the accident.  However, that bit of anonymity lasted only until Christmas day, when the women finally broke the news to Dr. Blades about the latest profession, and the impending trip to New York City.  Naturally, he was a bit overwhelmed learning about all the pieces and how, and why, they fit together.  He was especially taken aback when learning about May Alice’s former career.  Like his daughter, he had trouble reconciling what he knew of her, and her having once been an urbanite, and semi-famous actress.  He could buy the writer part much more easily.  But what really stuck with him, in the end, was Chantelle being in New York City, alone.  The women tried to downplay the alone part, especially since the whole reason she would be going was to attend to May Alice, but there was no doubt that Chantelle would have down time.  The only conclusion drawn that day, before they moved on to less heavy matters, was that Chantelle would be tested in life.  She would, for the rest of her life, need to continuously make the choice to stay sober - whether that choice was made in Lafayette, Chicago, or New York City.

That evening, Chantelle and Denita were in bed and Denita asked if she could come visit her mother in New York.  Chantelle wanted that so much, and she, and May Alice had discussed it, but Chantelle could not be the one to answer, which hurt her more than she expected.  It reminded her again, like every single day of her sobriety, how much she’d given up for drugs, and the man who introduced her to them, and how hard it was going to be to earn her way back into Denita’s life.  She was grateful, every day, that her father had been able to step up and raise the girl in her absence; so many addicts’ children were far less fortunate.  But, it also meant she’d have to fight twice as hard to convince her father, and maybe even herself, that she could be trusted with the girl again, one day.  Six months’ sobriety was, in many ways, so much, and in just as many ways, nothing.

“We will see,” is all she could respond to the girl.

Since Denita and Chantelle were so inseparable, May Alice took it upon herself to approach Dr. Blades about the possibility of his bringing Denita to New York for a visit while they were working.  She invited him to join her outside on the dock, one morning, while she did her mid-morning workout.  The day was warming up nicely, and several times, Dr. Blades had mentioned the good weather and how he missed fishing.  “We have all the gear, and no one’s using it.  Why don’t you help yourself?” she offered.  He’d agreed, and once he’d set up on the dock, and had done some casting into the river, she rolled up closer to the dock and presented a second invitation to him, this one, for the pair to join her, and Chantelle in New York.  “Perhaps, during her Spring Break in March?”  She offered.  To her surprise, he did not say no.  He didn’t say yes, either, but that was a stretch goal anyway.

“Well,” he responded, “I think it’s rather early to commit to anything.”

May Alice nodded, not really sure what else to say.  She let silence settle between them for a while as they enjoyed the quiet lapping of the water under the dock.  Eventually, she said to him, almost as if to change the subject, but not, “She has an iron will, you know?”

“Like her father,” he said.  May Alice chuckled.  She couldn’t argue that.  The rest would have to be up to Chantelle, she decided.

No one brought it up again that day, but prior to their departure, another discussion was opened, in which May Alice reiterated that, if Dr. Blades found the time, and desire to bring Denita to New York City, they would be most welcome.  They both agreed upon the importance of the girl continuing to spend time with Chantelle.  Perhaps his most meaningful gift to his daughter that Christmas, was his agreement, that barring any unforeseen circumstances, he would plan to bring Denita to New York in March.


	11. 11

**Chapter 11**

Rennie came by the Culhane home again, two days after Christmas, that time, with all five kids in tow.  The women were elated, especially, by Acadia’s presence.  She still appeared thin, and a bit pale, but the jaundice was non-existent and, knowing all she’d been through, they couldn’t have been more encouraged.

The two ten-year-olds, Denita and Acadia, having never met before, wasted no time exchanging information on their Christmas loot.  Immediately, all the girls moved to the living room and began playing with their new dolls together.  Denita was thrilled to play big sister to Elizabeth, who was only three.  She’d never been around a girl that young before; she was more used to kids Acadia, and Sabine’s age, from school, but Missy seemed older than her seven years, and she fit right in with the older girls.  Jaxon, the five-year-old, and only boy, sat on Rennie’s lap playing with a toy alligator who’s mouth opened and shut.  May Alice commented that he, along with Acadia, had Rennie’s eyes.

The adults filled Dr. Blades in on Acadia’s recent health scare.  They omitted the religious, and legal, issues surrounding the ordeal.  That omission, and Dr. Blades’ agreement that the girl was likely to live a full life with only one kidney, were both reliefs to Rennie.  As Jaxon sat quietly on Rennie’s lap, May Alice noticed, several times, that the boy was staring at her from across the table.  Every time she met his stare, she was taken by his eyes.  The intensity in the deep amber was so reminiscent of his father, she found she could not keep from smiling at him.  He did not, as far as she could tell, smile back, but he held her gaze whenever their eyes met.  When she would look away, or engage in the conversation around the table, Jaxon would continue to entertain himself with the alligator, never fussing for attention, or appearing to be bored.  After about a half an hour, Rennie asked the boy if he wanted to go sit with the other kids, but Jaxon nodded his head no, then whispered something in his father’s ear.  Knowing the house, and that no invitation was necessary, Rennie lifted the boy, excused them, and headed up the stairs in the direction of the guest bathroom. 

When the pair returned, Chantelle had set out snacks for everyone.  The older kids filtered in and out of the kitchen between playing and snacking.  As Rennie returned, to sit back down at the table, Jaxon did not follow him.  He’d walked over to May Alice and placed the alligator into her hand.  He looked up at her expectantly and she was confused.  He picked up on that, immediately, and said, “up?”  She realized, then, he wanted her to hold the toy so he could use his hands to climb over the wheel of her chair, which he was already in the process of doing.  He moved so quickly, Rennie didn’t have time to respond, but May Alice waved him off as he started to rise from his chair, and she swiftly reached for the boy, aiding his final push upward, over the wheel of the chair, and into her lap.  Once situated, she handed him back the toy and he smiled at her and showed her how the alligator’s mouth worked.  No one, besides May Alice, or Rennie, would have thought much of the exchange, as it was such a simple, every day event; but to May Alice, it was not simple, and not every day, at all.  She had to fight to keep her composure.  Normally, kids wanted nothing to do with her, maybe, sensing she had no clue how to handle them, but, that one tiny gesture, from Rennie’s little boy, whom she’d only been around one time before, had warmed her to her core in a most unexpected, and welcome way.  He remained there contently, showing her the features of the alligator, guiding her hands over the surface of the toy, and helping her maneuver the mouth.  After some twenty minutes, worried that May Alice would be uncomfortable, or bored by the child camped out on her lap, Rennie lifted the boy from her, and insisted he go play with the other kids for a bit.

As the day waned, the families had taken turns entertaining one another; snacks had been made, and eaten, and the time had passed much too quickly.  The Boudreaux clan packed up around supper time.  The two ten-year-old girls vowed to write to one another.  Acadia found it very impressive she could receive a letter from someone in Chicago.  She’d only just learned that word, that day, but she liked the sound of it.  Just before Rennie and Jaxon were exiting the front door, Jaxon stopped, and turned back to May Alice, and reached up toward her.  She reached for him, and with little effort, scooped him up and into her lap, where that time, he wrapped his little arms tightly around her neck and gave her a peck on her cheek.  Her eyes welled with tears with the return of the overwhelming feeling from before, but this time, she made no effort to hide the emotion.

“G’nite, Miss _Malice,_ ” the boy said.  Everyone giggled at the pronunciation and May Alice thought the boy must have had her all figured out, indeed.  She laughed, too, at that thought, and hugged him right back.

“Good night, Mr. Jaxon.  You, and your alligator, come back and see me again, okay?”

Rennie lifted the boy off May Alice’s lap and turned to her, and said, “We sure enjoyed ourselves.  Thank you.”

“Anytime, Rennie, you know that,” she said as she wiped the happy tear away.

As he turned to leave he stopped and said, “I forgot to ask you, would you like me to come by when you’re . . . away and check on the house?”  He‘d hesitated to say the word, _away,_ and he hoped she’d not picked up on it. 

She’d not thought about leaving the house behind, only about being gone from it.  It probably wasn’t necessary, she knew, but it was something she figured he’d do anyway, so she said, “That would be great, if it’s no trouble?”

“No trouble, ‘Miss _Malice’_ ” he said, playfully repeating his son’s faux pas.  He winked at her and left.

Rennie was as happy as he could recall having been in the past two months.  He’d wished he and May Alice had a few moments to themselves that evening but it had not been possible.  He liked spending time with her; it made him feel like a part of something, and he believed they both benefitted from their visits together.  It was simple, and comfortable and meaningful.  He’d missed that more than he’d realized, until, he saw her that evening.  For the first time, he realized just how long it had been since they’d spent spend time together.  So much had happened, and it was all a fog that was only just now beginning to lift for him.  He was surprised to see that her auburn hair had grown longer, it was now almost to her shoulders.  It softened her features, and framed her face, and he liked it.  He’d caught himself staring at her more than a few times that evening.

In those harrowing weeks past, between various jobs, worrying about Acadia, and working diligently with Arlene to find some common ground, he’d not had time to miss his friend.  But now, driving away from her home toward his, his happiness was suddenly overcome by some unnamed emotion.  Not as dark as melancholy, but, an emptiness, a longing.  He disregarded the feeling and focused, instead, on the discussion between his kids who were recapping the afternoon’s visit, letting their happiness lift his spirit enough to let the other, unnamed feeling go.  His children, he’d realized, had been sheltered, too long, from social interactions.  The older girls had assimilated easily with Denita, helped along by having been allowed to attend public school, and he enjoyed watching them play.  Jaxon was much quieter, by nature.  Not simply because of his young age, but even growing up, he’d taken longer than the girls to learn to speak.  Arlene had worried about him but Rennie would watch him, and saw that Jaxon was a keenly observant child.  He was curious, and very tactile.  Often, when the girls would be commenting on any given object, Jaxon would be busily trying to touch it.  Rennie couldn’t help but notice the intense attention Jaxon had paid May Alice that day.  He’d seen the boy looking attentively at the woman, and when he later moved to sit with her, Rennie was intrigued.  He’d never seen Jaxon so drawn to anyone who was not family.  He wished he could have peered into the boy’s mind to see what had been different about May Alice, but, maybe, deep down, he already knew.

Admittedly, in the intense weeks Rennie had recently spent with his family, he was forced to notice all the ways in which he’d allowed himself to be excluded from them.  He had made some immediate decisions, of course, insisting the older girls get into school and assuring that Acadia made every follow-up appointment with her doctors.  The latter was solely up to Rennie, but Arlene ensured the girl was always dressed, and ready, for the visits.  The public school had welcomed the girls, and worked with them after normal class hours to get them up to speed with the other children in their respective grades.  The church school had done well teaching them to read, but had done, virtually, nothing with math or science.  The girls were reveling in reading books that had little, or nothing, to do with God.  They had no idea such tales existed.  Only Elizabeth and Jaxon were still at home all day with Arlene.  Arlene had exchanged social places with her girls it seemed; where the girls were flourishing, while being around their peers, Arlene was isolated from hers.  The separation was tearing at her, Rennie could see it.  He’d not asked her to give up practicing her religion, but she knew that he was going to keep her from raising the kids the same way she had been, the way the congregation dictated, and she saw that as just another failure of hers.  All of Arlene’s birth family lived in Baton Rouge.  The family she had in Lafayette was solely congregational “family”, and they had either shunned her, or she, them.  Rennie was not sure which, and he hadn’t the time to care, other than to feel a little sorry for Arlene’s seclusion.

Even at her arraignment hearing, which had been determined to be the jurisdiction of Lafayette Parish, not a single one of the congregation turned up to defend, or, even morally support, her.  The kidnapping charge against her had been dropped in exchange for a guilty plea to the lesser, child endangerment charge, which allowed her to get probation for two years.  With her signed affidavit, stating the other men involved in the abduction would not have acted without her instigation, charges against them were also dropped.  Rennie was angry that Arlene had been the fall guy for the whole thing because he believed it was quite the opposite that had happened; Arlene never would have stolen their child from a hospital without encouragement.  Still, he was relieved that, because of her plea deal, she would have to comply, at least for two years, with his having the primary custodial responsibilities for the children.  He hoped that the entire ordeal, and the aftermath, would help Arlene find some middle ground between her oppressive and unforgiving religion, and a life that he, and the kids, could all be a part of with her. 

_One evening past, about two weeks after Acadia had come home from the hospital, the kids had all turned in for the night and Rennie and Arlene were alone in their living room.  He’d not made a lot of time for them to talk, and knowing that her life, like his, had also been thrown for a loop, he’d attempted to offer some affection to her.  He’d moved to hold her, and found she was as stiff as a board in his arms.  She found no comfort in his embrace.  He pulled away a little and looked at her.  She was not meeting his gaze, so, he told her, softly, “Look at me.”  She fidgeted a moment and then looked at him. “I know you’re not happy right now, and I am sorry for that.  I really am.  I don’t know how to help you.”_

_“We were happy before,” she said._

_“You were happy,” he pointed out._

_“You never said you weren’t happy, Rennie.”  While she was starting to sound like she was challenging him, he was glad she was, at least, exhibiting some emotion._

_“No, I guess I didn’t.  I wasn’t unhappy.  But I’m happier now.  I feel like a part of my family again.  I think the kids are happier too.  Do you think there’s some way you can be happy, this way?”_

_“I don’t know,” she replied quietly, looking away from him._

_Discouraged by her continued coolness, he released her rigid body from his light embrace, and said, “Well, only you can find that answer.  The sooner you find it the better, though, because the kids see you’re unhappy.  Acadia thinks it’s all her fault.”  She shot Rennie a hardened look, that felt to him like hate.  He did not feel out of line, however, Acadia did blame herself, and it was unfair, but he decided no more pushing that night.  He would give her time._

Since that first attempt, they’d had several more discussions about how to move forward with their lives.  Some ended in anger, some in seeming understanding, but none had led to any conclusion.  As Christmas had approached, Rennie still hadn’t pushed, giving her even more time, and hoping the holiday season might kick off some semblance of happiness in her.  He’d finally been encouraged on Christmas Day.  She’d smiled and laughed with the kids as they ripped into their gifts, and she’d seemed touched by the gold pendant Rennie had, unexpectedly, given to her.  He’d wanted to get her something to remind her of the children, but settled on what he thought would be safer, a small cross.  They’d enjoyed the entire Christmas day together; none of the kids asked to go play with the others in the neighborhood, and, that evening, they all watched animated Christmas movies together on the new TV and VCR Rennie had gotten for them.  He’d ended up next to Arlene on the couch and she didn’t protest when he held her hand for a few minutes during the movie.  Over the following two days, Arlene had continued to interact with the kids.  She’d even made extra effort to speak with, and embrace Acadia, and she complimented her several times, Rennie saw, with being such a help.  When Rennie had suggested they all take a drive, that second day after Christmas, Arlene said it would be good for him to spend time with the kids alone; she wanted time to get the house back in order.  It had become quite the mess with new toys, clothes, and games everywhere while they tried to entertain five young kids, for days in a row.  He assured her they’d be back in time to help with supper.  She followed them out of the house that morning, and hugged each as they loaded up into the truck to set out for their adventure. 

They’d driven up to Grand Coteau to see the beautiful gardens.  He knew the girls would love the flowers, present even in the winter, and they were not disappointed.  They’d visited May Alice and Chantelle later that afternoon, and finally, they were returning home to spend another boisterous night together before Rennie needed to return to work in a couple of days.  As his truck arrived in the driveway of their home, and each of the kids was helped out of, either the cab, or the bed of the truck, Rennie was a little relieved to see they’d finally run out of steam, and that his odd sadness had given way to a contented happiness about the day.  As they reached the door to the house, they tossed it open and the kids streamed in and camped out on the couch and chairs in the living room.  They took turns calling for Arlene, who was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen.  When Rennie had all the road trip toys piled in the doorway of the house, he went into the hallway to the bedrooms, expecting to meet Arlene there.  He proceeded down the hallway looking into each of the rooms and, finally, into their master bedroom but did not find her.  He turned the light on in their room and saw an envelope lying on their bed.  His heart sank.  He reached for it, but before he could open it, Missy ran into the room calling for her Maw.  Rennie tucked the envelope into his shirt pocket, and turned Missy back to the hallway, and toward the kitchen.  “Maw is visiting friends,” he announced to all the kids, “she’s leaving dinner up to us.”  No one, but Acadia, found this news odd, but for her own reasons, she did not ask.

Rennie and Acadia cooked while the other kids, either rested, or, set the table.  Rennie was happy they’d remained tired and by 8:30 he’d had them all bathed, and into their beds.  Acadia helped, as she always did, with Elizabeth, and Rennie took over with Jaxon.  Sabine helped out with Missy, so, it was actually rather efficient that evening.  As Rennie finally found himself alone, he sat on his bed and opened the envelope.  It said about what he’d imagined.  Arlene’s brother had come for her, and she would be staying in Baton Rouge, for “a bit.”  She tried to explain that, while she loved them, she felt numb inside.  She wrote that she would have the elders congregate and pray over her, so her soul might still be saved, but in order to prove her desire, she needed to be there, immersed in their prayers and offerings, if she were to have any hope of redemption.  She ended with, “I will pray for all of us.”  He sat on the bed another few minutes, mystified at his complete lack of emotion over the abandonment.  He felt nothing.  Soon after, though, he felt exhausted.  He rose, showered, and fell back into bed, where he slept, anxiety and dream free, the entire night.

Arlene’s absence took no time at all to manifest itself in the family.  There was mildly organized chaos those first few days.  The girls did not have to be back in school for another two weeks and Rennie had no idea what to do with the younger two currently, much less, when school started again.  The first days he made a game of their time together, in hopes they’d not miss their mother so much, but the newness had worn away quickly, and by New Year’s Day, Elizabeth was inconsolable.  Every one of her siblings had tried to appease her, but in the end, they all came to the same conclusion, their mom was not where they needed her to be, and they were upset to know she wasn’t.  Rennie found himself wishing for the wisdom of the good Deacon Leon from Baton Rouge, to help him explain the event to the children.  Then he wondered, as he often did, what his own father would have done about this situation.  What would his mother have done?  Even knowing his mother never faced what Arlene was, he knew she would never have left her family.  Then, he convinced himself this was only temporary, and, with that, he resolved they would all just handle it until Arlene returned.

He gathered the kids up, mid-morning, on New Year ’s Day, amidst the continuous unhappiness of Elizabeth.  They drove to the marina, and he loaded the children up in his boat, and hit the bayou.  Once in a quiet and calm spot he stopped the boat, and moved to the front to face the kids.  He broke the news that their Maw was not coming back for a little while.  He was not sure how long, but, that she was with her own family.  He asked each of them to think about what life would be like if they did not all see one another every day.  He reminded them what it was like when Acadia was gone from them not so long ago.  They seemed to understand that explanation, and once they did, he said, “Maybe your Maw just needs to see her brothers and sissies again for a bit, yeah?”  They were silent.  He hoped they were buying it.  He knew it was not really the same situation, at all, but he had nothing else they might understand. 

Just as he thought they were going to accept his explanation, Acadia broke the silence, and said, simply, but with wisdom beyond that of her age, “But she’s a Maw.”  If the other kids understood her, which Rennie thought maybe they didn’t yet, they didn’t acknowledge it.  Only Acadia knew Rennie was making an excuse where, to her, there was none. 

He nodded to the girl and said, “Yes, but, I’m a Pa, and I’m here, and we are all gonna be fine.”  With that said, he picked up Elizabeth, sat her on his lap and said, “You hear me child?  We are fine.  You believe your Pa?”

She looked at him and said, in her smallest of voice, “Yes, Papa.”  She was still not happy, but she had stopped crying when they’d gotten on the water, and even then, with Rennie saying that their mother would not be home right away, she had not started again.  From there, Rennie took turns assigning each of the older kids a duty to help with a younger one.  He asked Acadia to remain Elizabeth’s surrogate, and both girls seemed good with that.  Sabine would, as always, be Missy’s advocate, which she didn’t always need, but she was happy to have her own ally.

“Jaxon, you’re their only brother.  That’s a big job, and you’re just a little man right now.  You think you can handle helping out your sissies when they’re sad?  That’s what brothers do, y’ know?”  The idea was completely foreign to the boy, he had no idea what it meant, but he loved his Papa, and he’d already understood that he was not like the girls; that natural difference, coupled with his father’s words, made him feel special then.  He was excited that he would have a role to play, even if he didn’t know exactly what that was.

The family proceeded to enjoy the day in the swamp.  Rennie reminded them it was the start of a new year, and he pointed out wildlife, and told Cajun tales associated with all the signs, the good omens, they were seeing.  Like the storybooks the girls had read in school, they were fascinated by the tales their Pa was telling them.  They had no idea that is what the swamp was, and it was not nearly the dark, and scary place they’d been taught to fear.  If they’d been questioned, they’d have each been hard-pressed to think the devil was anywhere out there with them, as they’d often been warned about by their Maw.  Only one thing Rennie witnessed on the bayou, that day, was not a good sign, and that one, he kept firmly to himself.  He tried not to think about it, hoping it would foreshadow something minor since they had already had their share of bad mojo.

The frenzied and exhausting days of five young children, and one inexperienced parent, flew past.  No one was injured, lost, or, otherwise, outwardly harmed by the complete destruction of the routine they’d known their whole lives.  Neighbors had all stepped in to help with meals, baby sitting, and general support, during the holiday vacation, figuring out, pretty quickly, that something major had occurred in the family.  Mrs. Flowers, down the road, had even helped Rennie with all the paperwork needed to get Acadia into school after the break; something he didn’t even realize needed to be done.  In addition, she’d been instrumental in helping him find day care for Jaxon and Elizabeth.  He was apprehensive about sending them off but he needed to work.  He worried a lot about work.  Their savings were at an all-time low and he had no idea when Arlene might find her salvation and return to them.  He never allowed the thought that she might not return.  That was not anything he could fathom, so, at least he didn’t have that burden.  With the offering of help from the neighbors, he had begun to have a little breathing room, time to try and fashion a plan, versus flying by the seat of his pants. 

While Rennie pondered his plan, May Alice and Chantelle were mired in theirs.  It was mid-January, and they were scheduled to leave for New York in one week.  They’d done so much logistical planning for the stay, they should have qualified for some kind of degree.  Chantelle, remarkably, had found a public pool, only seven miles from the Plaza Hotel, that could, not only, accommodate a wheelchair, but also, staffed physical therapists who, miraculously, had time slots available to work with May Alice in the mornings, before she’d need to be at the theater.  Chantelle worried if May Alice would have the stamina to keep up with the extensive movement New York would require, but was, in no way, prepared to allow May Alice to stop physical therapy.  Dane Lexington, May Alice’s business manager from her soap opera working days, had been instrumental in booking the Plaza Hotel, one of the few, at the time, that could accommodate her limited mobility, and extended stay.  Lexington had also found a car service that could fill the bill, and would commit to getting May Alice to the pool, and theater, daily, and on time.  May Alice, having flown from New York to Louisiana the previous year, knew what was involved with the air travel.  That would prove the biggest challenge, as no airline was truly equipped for paraplegics. 

Lost for most of January, in planning, and re-planning, neither woman had given more than a few moments thought about their friend, Rennie.  That was until late one evening, a week prior to the women’s scheduled departure, when May Alice’s dream of him returned.  The same dream, where she was on the dock, dangling her feet in the water below. 

_She stands to make the walk toward Rennie, but this time, Rennie is not on the other end of the dock, welcoming her.  She is overcome with an oppressive sadness at his absence.  She sinks to her knees in the spot he usually occupies.  She is awaiting the familiar sound of Chantelle, calling to her from across the water, on a distant island, where she is usually holding the hand of the little girl, and waving, yelling, “May Alice, I found her!”  But this time, no call comes.  This further saddens her.  She turns in the direction where the island, and Chantelle, should be, fearing they will both be gone, like Rennie.  To her surprise, however, standing on the shore facing her, is Rennie.  He is just staring at her.  Then, he raises his hand to wave to her, but says nothing.  She wants to yell to him, “Come, be with me,” but nothing escapes her mouth.  He smiles at her, drops his waving hand, and turns and walks away._

May Alice woke up, sobbing, trying to catch her breath, and hoping she had not awoken Chantelle.  She gasped, trying to calm herself, and wondering why the dream had changed.  After several minutes, she had stopped crying, but the sadness remained.  She realized, then, how long it had been since she’d really thought about Rennie.  For the weeks during his absence in New Iberia, she had believed she was over her infatuation with him.  She’d been glad for that, she did not want to be in love with a married man, and she’d worked hard to try to let him go.  His continued absence, following Acadia’s illness, had only helped validate that she had been mistaken about her feelings for him, and vice versa.  Thinking about him, then, there in the dark, and held up in the sadness of the dream, she was befuddled by the emotions.  Eventually, the sadness gave way to fatigue, and she’d fallen asleep again, blessed, that time, with a dreamless sleep.  However, the following day, she did revisit the memory of the dream, several times.  She recalled that the island, in the dream, was named Misère.  Misery.  By the evening, she’d convinced herself that was a good omen.  It was fate, confirming to her that Rennie was moving on without her, and she would be sad, but it was all for the best. 


	12. 12

**Chapter 12**

January 23rd, 1993, may have gone down as the single, most exhausting day May Alice Culhane could ever remember having lived through.  She, and Chantelle, had left home at 6:45 that morning, carrying substantial amounts of luggage designed to carry them through six weeks in New York City.  They boarded the first flight in Lafayette at 8:00 a.m. and flew to New Orleans, where they had a three-hour layover, then, loaded on their final plane for the four-hour flight to La Guardia.  By the time they’d landed, retrieved luggage, and connected with their driver for the ride to the Plaza, it had proved to be the most taxing day either woman could recall.  May Alice tried to remember if her trip the previous year, when she’d returned from New York for the first time in her wheelchair, had been as difficult.  She could hardly recall that trip, at all.  She reasoned, perhaps, she had still been in shock over her sudden introduction to paralysis, or, more likely, she’d drunk too much to remember.  _Lucky,_ she thought to herself now, somewhat envious of that May Alice.  The women arrived in their room after ten hours, that to them, felt more like twenty.  Dane Lexington had really come though, however.  The suite was stunning.  As they entered and scanned the place, Chantelle finally spoke, and said, “I could get used to this.” 

May Alice only responded, “We’ll see.”  She was pleased with the room, but she had been in the Plaza’s suites before, and while this one was as lovely as the others, she’d been a bit jaded in her prior New York life.

May Alice’s room in the suite contained a king size bed, which was set upon a lower platform than a traditional box spring.  Chantelle chuckled to herself upon seeing it, happy to know that finally, May Alice would be sleeping the way a human should.  May Alice paid little attention to the bed as she moved toward the master bathroom which, again, was one of the few equipped, at the time, for wheelchair accommodation.  The doorway into that room was even wider than the others throughout the suite; handrails were in place at the commode, and the ample bathtub was sunken into the floor with stylish rails, just about at chair level, making transition into the tub easy.  May Alice pictured how bathing there might actually return to being a treat, not a chore; she took one look at that, and said “Okay, yeah, now we’re talking.”  Chantelle had worried the marble flooring in the bathroom might be a bit of a hazard for the wheelchair, but, as it turned out, the rubber on the wheels easily gripped the smooth surface.

After having seen the layout of their home for the next several weeks, May Alice declared she was too tired to eat and really wanted to go to bed.  Chantelle didn’t argue, being every bit as tired.  They prepped May Alice for bed, then moved her over to introduce her to the mattress in the room.  May Alice looked a bit defeated when she realized a metal bar was suspended over the center of the bed.  It dangled securely from an ornate beam in the ceiling of the room.  While Chantelle noticed the quick expression, she briefly ignored it, while beginning the delicate task of learning how May Alice could best move from the chair into the bed.  It turned out, the height of the mattress was perfect for a smooth, horizontal transition from the chair, to the mattress, and little effort had to be expended by either woman.  Still, Chantelle couldn’t let it pass that May Alice ignored the use of the bar. 

“If you use the bar, you won’t need me at all.”

“I wasn’t sure I could reach it,” May Alice said, feebly.  In truth, the sight of it reminded her how different this stay in New York would be for her.  From the moment they hit the ground at La Guardia, many good memories, associated with who she used to be there, flooded her mind.  She liked how quickly those feelings had returned to her.  However, the sight of the bar, its stark metal hanging, in contrast, to the ornate and soft fabrics that adorned every other place in the suite, had reminded her of the many unhappy nights spent in the rehab hospital.  Regardless, as she eased back onto the mattress and pillow, she let out an audible sigh of relief, because this bed was nothing like the hospital bed.  “ _Oh my God,_ this place is worth whatever penny we’re paying for it,” she declared.

Chantelle found much the same comfort in her room in the suite.  Her bed and bathroom were traditionally designed for the able-bodied human.  “I love you, Dane Lexington,” she said aloud, as soon as she hit the heavenly bed in her room.

Both women slept better than either recalled in months.  By design, they’d flown in on a Saturday giving themselves one full day, Sunday, to get settled into the suite and prepare for the weeks’ routines ahead.  They would meet Monday with the physical therapists at the pool, and, for Tuesday, May Alice insisted on hitting a salon to address the hair she’d been neglecting the past seven months.  She had not been removed from New York City life so long that her appearance would not be noticed, she knew.  On Wednesday, they would meet with Teller and Wyatt and be taken to see the theater where they’d be working for the duration of their stay.  From there, the itinerary was tentative until the casting was complete.

From the very moment of their arrival, the women found the accommodations and service at the Plaza refreshing and relaxing.  The transition in routine, from Louisiana, to New York, went seamlessly, as though they traveled this way all the time.  It was a surprising and welcomed revelation.  Things went so well, that by that first Thursday, Teller, Wyatt and May Alice were confident opening up auditions for the show.  They’d had over 200 headshots lined up, and had whittled them down to a manageable eighty-five by the time they started auditioning, the following Saturday.  May Alice was introduced to the director for this production, an interesting woman, named Leslie West.  Leslie had never worked with Austin Wyatt, but they’d been friends a while, and he claimed, from the moment he read May Alice’s draft, he believed Leslie could interpret it properly.  Leslie was quieter than May Alice ever would have guessed for a director.  Quiet, but very intelligent, and she, in fact, did get every nuance, every sarcastic dig, and every observation that made the play the unique work it was.  May Alice hoped she’d not been so transparent with her writing that anyone could have stepped in and directed it, but Leslie sure made it look easy.

The first meeting with the physical therapists had, also, gone well and May Alice had already completed two sessions at the pool.  She learned how well Chantelle had done with her prodding when she realized how much easier the water therapy was from the last time she’d tried it, a year ago, in the rehab hospital.  This time, she had the strength, and stamina to do much of the arm work with little support, and her core strength allowed her to tread water, for a time, and float almost naturally.  There were two therapists who would alternate workouts with her and both commented on the health of her leg muscles, which still exhibited very little atrophy.  The morning work outs, she’d soon learn, would complement the hours spent at the theater in the day.  She found her mind was sharp, and stayed sharp and she was not dog-tired by the end of each day, which allowed her to enjoy the energy of the city she’d called home for so many years.

May Alice’s satirical drama involved eight major characters.  Only the top twenty-five people, from the eighty-five head shots, were contacted to audition that first day.  Casting was an entirely new process for May Alice and she was relieved that Wyatt and Teller seemed to know exactly how best to do it.  She quickly understood the phrase that all actors tried hard to believe, but never really do, which is not to take it personally that you’re too old, too tall, too short, too white, too fat, too thin for some given role.  May Alice was witnessing, first hand, that those things were absolutely true.  You were chosen, first by your head shot, and whether that particular shot matched, even a little, the idea that the directors and producers had in mind.  Then, if you were lucky enough to get past that step, you were called to audition, and again, hope that your interpretation of a character, even remotely, matched that of the casting people.  It was truly a crap-shoot, May Alice realized.  She felt better being on this end of the deal, that was for sure.  Especially now, where, without the use of her lower body, she believed she could never act again.

Following the first eighteen, or so, five-minute auditions, May Alice tried to recall if she had even been a good actor.  She always believed she was, but admittedly, her soap opera role didn’t feel anything as intense as what these people were displaying.  She’d done her share of plays prior to her TV gig, and she’d even received some regional awards for a few, but still she didn’t remember appearing as polished and as ready as so many of these actors were.  She always recalled it feeling more like winging it.  As though reading her mind, Lisa leaned in and said, “A lot has changed in twenty years, huh?”

“They’re incredible,” May Alice said.

“So were you,” Lisa said.  “I saw you in ‘The Women of the House’ when I was a freshman in college.  You weren’t the lead, but you stole every scene.  It was a lot of fun to watch.”  May Alice was touched.  She had in fact, made her role in that production something greater than had been written, and it was the most fun she’d ever had doing a play.  The director of that show, Bennett Marley, was an up-and-coming young director.  The play was well written, but all the characters were quite intense, which felt oppressive to May Alice; she was struggling with her role because she didn’t really understand the reason for her character in the piece, at all. 

_One evening after the first week of rehearsal, Bennet Marley, the cast and crew, all went out drinking and cut loose.  May Alice had always been a good drinker.  She supposed she learned that from her father, or maybe, from growing up in the south.  Drinking, to him, and many southern gentlemen, was always a way to do business, so, one had to remain in control while doing it, less you become fleeced in the business transaction.  May Alice could drink with the best of the city crowd, and once imbibed, she often ran the conversation.  At first, because she was pretty, and men liked to drink with a pretty woman.  There were always pretty women, though.  What set May Alice apart was, as the liquor flowed, the other women tended to break off into their own cliques, or go off with a man.  May Alice, however, knew a little, about a lot of things; she could talk about anything, and she was witty, and bawdy, and that kept men rapt.  And, more often than not, she went a whole night without ever buying one drink for herself, and without going home with a man.  If she did end up in someone’s bed, it was someone she had chosen, and not vice-versa._

_Bennett Marley was an exception.  That seduction, that night, had been quite mutual, and she thought it was supposed to just be sex.  It started that way, but the morning following, Bennett woke her up, and he didn’t let her leave his flat for the next two days, and not entirely for the reason they’d ended up there in the first place.  They’d spent the majority of the time secretly retooling the character May Alice was playing in ‘The Women of the House’.  Ben didn’t ask her, he simply dictated what he wanted from her, and she easily accommodated.  By the time they arrived for the next rehearsal, May Alice not only understood her enigmatic character, she embraced her with a passion.  Empowered by Ben’s brilliance, and nerve, she unleashed the newly styled character, unannounced, to everyone else associated with the production.  To her astonishment, no one stopped her; not once, during the entire rehearsal.  It was evident she and Bennett had succeeded in leaving everyone speechless.  It was hard to say if it had been the sheer audacity of the two to have taken such liberties with the work, or, if it was because the improvement to the show had been so immediately evident.  Whatever it was, the play had been a hit, and the role was memorable to the audiences, and fulfilling for her, and she, and Bennett remained friends and colleagues for years to follow._

_Maybe I wasn’t such an imposter after all,_ she thought then, refreshed, and grateful, to Lisa for revisiting such a lovely memory _._

In the days that followed, May Alice learned that having Austin Wyatt at the helm of even a fledgling, experimental production pulled a lot of weight.  Agents, city-wide, had submitted only their finest talent for the auditions, and those actors were largely who May Alice had been seeing.  By the following week, the final casting had been done, and fortunately, every actor’s calendar was free, whether honestly, or by design.  No waiting had to be done, and the first table reading was able to begin the third week, right on schedule. 

By the time casting had been completed, Chantelle had familiarized herself with the immediate area around the Plaza Hotel.  She was used to the cold weather from her days in Chicago, and she enjoyed that she could safely walk so much in the city.  Being in Manhattan, she was sheltered from the poorer parts of New York City, those areas she, and Luther, would have frequented, not so very long ago.  She spent other time focused on May Alice’s needs, writing to her father and Denita, and she took in several movies.  While she was always welcome at the theater, she enjoyed her time apart from May Alice, and hoped her absences would foster May Alice’s independence.  She would go, daily, with May Alice to the theater in the morning, settle her in and then depart until lunch time.  Sometimes their driver would return her to the Plaza but some mornings she would explore the area around the theater.  As the weeks went on, and she began to run out of things to do, she became more intrigued with watching the play’s evolution.  She found it more entertaining to watch once the majority of re-writes had been done and the play was becoming more fluid.  She also enjoyed watching how the actors changed as they grew into their parts.

In those days, she had witnessed, what she termed, the New York-version of May Alice.  That, too, was entertaining.  Several times, either at the theater, or the Plaza, various soap cast mates would drop in to see her.  They would talk tech-TV-actor-stuff, but also, share gossip, and revisit all sorts of stories from salacious to, outright, scandalous.  She would witness May Alice go from a skilled professional one might see in a business meeting, to a giddy college, sorority girl, in one sitting.  Chantelle would sometimes spend minutes eavesdropping and trying to decipher which of the visitors were genuine.  Most of the time, she believed, not many.  They were all so colorful and flamboyant.  She’d met some of the women from May Alice’s show last summer, when they’d dropped in, while on a junket in New Orleans, and mostly, seemed like what Chantelle would expect of actors; shallow, and self-centered.  However, one of them Chantelle liked.  Rhonda Rhodes had been the only one Chantelle thought might actually have cared about May Alice, the person.  It helped that Rhonda was also from Chicago, and grew up nearby, and similarly, to Chantelle.  Rhonda had come by the Plaza in the first week, and had visited several times since.  Their conversations always involved Chantelle, and she’d grown to appreciate the woman as a person, and then, an actor, after she’d, shamelessly, started watching May Alice’s former soap opera in the days when she’d run out of other things to do.  One person who Chantelle thought might turn up, but never did, was May Alice’s ex-husband.  Rhonda and May Alice would talk about him, and Chantelle had seen him on the soap, but no one ever mentioned anything about the former marriage.  Perhaps, not so odd, she thought one day, based on the fact that nearly every one of the actors who’d visited seemed nothing at all like May Alice; even she never spoke of her ex in the absence of other actors who worked with the pair.  By the same token, May Alice was not clamoring to visit anyone in the city, outside of Wyatt, Lisa or Leslie.  It was kind of sad, Chantelle thought.  May Alice had flourished there for twenty years but had established no roots.

One Saturday evening, Chantelle and May Alice had settled into the suite following a nice dinner.  They’d started a routine on Saturday’s, since they were usually off, or only at the theater for a couple hours, where they’d try some amazing restaurant to have dinner.  It was a fun way to see other parts of the city, and it made May Alice feel like she was, again, a part of it all.  To that end, curiosity got the better of Chantelle that night, and she tactically started a conversation in a way she thought might lead up to the very question that was often on her mind.  “What did you miss most about not being here?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I love the energy of the city.  I like that anything seems possible here.”

“You don’t miss acting, or your friends?” 

May Alice thought a bit, and then a bit longer.  Finally, she said wistfully, but honestly “I don’t miss acting.  And, I don’t really have any friends,” she looked at Chantelle, “Isn’t that pathetic?” she laughed.  Chantelle didn’t see the humor and just sat, looking at her.  Eventually, May Alice said, “Acting is a funny thing; it affords one so much attention and adoration, and who wouldn’t love that?  It just makes you want to stay that loved, adored person.  But, the longer you do it, the more you become something that’s not real.  And, of course, everyone else you associate with is doing the same thing, so they’re not exactly real either.  It’s a beautiful, fun, exciting charade . . . until you get hit by a cab, and can’t do it anymore.”  She stopped for a moment, then continued, “It was more exhausting than I recalled.” 

“You’ve done all right, though,” Chantelle offered, “You’re back here now, and you’ve done something real, with your play.”

It had taken a while for May Alice to accept that, but after several weeks back in the theater, seeing her work all come together, and with decent support, she allowed herself to feel she had, indeed, done something she could be proud of.  She wasn’t playing a character that someone else wrote, this time.  She realized her creativity was never faked, either in her acting, or, in her writing.  That was a foreign feeling for her, but she was growing to trust it, and it made her hopeful for her future.  “Thank you, Chantelle,” she said.  Then, ironically, uncomfortable with the attention, she changed the subject.  “So, what did your Dad say about visiting?  Is he going to come?”

“Yes!”  She answered, excitedly, and becoming instantly distracted from trying to get the dirt on May Alice’s former husband.  “He finally told Denita, too.  They’ll arrive on the 12th and stay for a few days.”  It was such good news.  While the good Dr. Blades was encouraged by, and supportive of, Chantelle’s sobriety, it had only been ten months since she’d gone through rehab; not much time, considering how long Chantelle had been a drug abuser, and considering the rehab had been court appointed, not volunteer.  Chantelle still recalled how, the previous summer, her father had changed his mind about letting Denita stay with the women, for reasons he’d never explained.  Still, he had been allowing the mother and daughter to see one another about every three months since Chantelle completed rehab, even more during the holidays, so, while a trip in March was not out of the question, Chantelle knew his apprehension about her spending these months in New York City, and knew he could change his mind at any given moment.  He’d refrained from fully committing to this visit until he felt comfortable with how she was doing in the city.  Proving she could handle it, is what Chantelle had focused on during the hours in the weeks that passed.  She was thrilled to learn her perseverance had paid off.


	13. 13

**Chapter 13**

Chantelle was restless.  It was Thursday morning and she was trying to remain patient while waiting in the theater for the director to call lunch for the rehearsal.  As hoped, May Alice had become more independent in the weeks there, mostly needing Chantelle for moral support, and restroom assistance, as the old theaters were barely fit for the able-bodied.  Chantelle would return just prior to lunch, help May Alice in the restroom, then, they would have lunch, and after, Chantelle would set May Alice up for forty-five minutes of standing therapy.  This theater had a nice back stoop with deep steps and a sturdy rail, where, on warmer, sunny days, they could do the therapy outside, there.  They enjoyed the sounds of the city floating over that alley, laughing when they realized the huge contrast between those noises, and the bug, and bird noises of home.  The first time Chantelle had commented about it, May Alice had been intrigued to hear Chantelle refer to Lafayette as home.

This day, however, they were discussing the impending arrival of Denita with Chantelle’s dad, on Saturday, and that was the impetus for her restlessness.  While Chantelle knew her father’s past reluctance about the visit was all for not, she couldn’t help but be anxious about seeing them again.  It had been three long months since their last visit at Christmas.  She couldn’t get over how much Denita had grown, and changed, since Labor Day.  Denita would turn eleven that May, and in her whole life, her mother had only been with her for half those, losing her to work, and school, and then, Luther and drugs.  With such knowledge comes the inevitable guilt of missing it all as it was happening.  And, so, although the play was set to open in one short week, it was May Alice who would be providing the moral support that day.  She reminded Chantelle that girls would always be their daddy’s little girl, no matter how old they were, and with that, often, came an unending feeling of inadequacy.  With break time waning, and, in attempt to lighten the mood a bit, she concluded that Chantelle must take the girl to FAO Schwartz.  “Nothing but happiness lives at FAO,” May Alice would say, both in truth, and in effort to calm Chantelle.

Upon returning to the row of theater seats, where May Alice would spend the next two hours listening to the director, re-writing dialogue, and blocking the actors, Chantelle had positioned herself to one side of May Alice’s seat.  She was leaning against the seats in the row in front of them, facing May Alice, while they spoke.  They were discussing a 3:00 p.m. appointment Chantelle had to get her hair done when, in a mid-sentence description of the style she had in mind, Chantelle stopped cold, and an expression fell across her face, the likes of which May Alice had never seen.  “What?”  May Alice whispered, still focused on the actors, who were returning to the stage.

“The best-looking man I’ve ever seen, _in my life,_ just walked in here,” she said incredulously, not taking her eyes off of the back of the theater.

May Alice turned slowly to share in the vision.  Upon seeing the man, May Alice, under her breath, let out a quiet, “Oh, my _God . . .,_ ” and turned her face back toward the stage.

“You know him?” Chantelle asked, finally, returning her look to May Alice, to keep from blushing.

“Well . . . _parts_ of him,” she drawled, with a raised brow, and wicked little smile.

Doubly impressed, then, Chantelle stared, wide eyed, at May Alice who simply rolled her eyes and stated aloud, “Bennett Marley, what on Earth are you doing here?”

As the man reached their row of seats, he answered, “Darling, I just had to see if the rumors were true. You are back!  And, may I say, it agrees with you; you look stunning!  I love the longer hair,” and with that, he had arrived at May Alice’s side, reached for her chin, tilted her head up, and planted a kiss squarely on her lips.

“Well, thank you, Ben.”  She responded, apparently, indifferent to the familiarity the man was showing.  “This is my friend, Chantelle; Chantelle, this is Bennett Marley, New York’s best-looking producer,” she said, with a wink.  Bennett turned, took Chantelle’s hand, and held it firmly, while kissing it lightly.

“ _New York’s_ best looking?”  Ben said, still holding Chantelle’s hand, “Only New York?  Well, I knew this day was coming,” he said wistfully, with faked resignation.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Chantelle responded, obviously smitten with the beauty of the older man before her.

“You are too kind; and very, very lovely, Chantelle.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, releasing her hand.

He was far more handsome than Chantelle would have imagined for a producer.  Much more along the lines of an actor, she thought.  He stood over six feet tall, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw line, perfect teeth, clean shaven, but for the trimmed moustache he wore, thick black hair, with just a touch of grey at the temples, and finished off with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, up close, on a white man.  It didn’t stop there, as he was topped off by a deep, low voice, strong, soft hands, and he smelled _expensive,_ she believed.  He was a sight to behold. 

Ben sat next to May Alice while Chantelle, still poised on the opposite side of her, stood, mesmerized, watching the mini-play unfolding beside her.  Ben told them of the talk about town regarding May Alice’s play, and her return to the city, and what rumors were likely coming from all of it.  Chantelle could surmise, from his small touches, and smiles at May Alice, that, indeed, they “knew” each other.  Not long after, she began to feel like the proverbial third wheel, even though, May Alice seemed utterly, unfazed by the lovely looking man, and made every effort to include Chantelle in their conversation.  Regardless, Chantelle asked her if she was all right, for the time being, and upon being told yes, she excused herself from the duo, explaining she needed to get to her hair appointment.

After Chantelle’s exit, all the actors had returned from lunch and began their work, while everyone else was busying themselves with their own tasks.  Ben leaned in to May Alice, and said, “I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell, what with all the phone calls, and letters . . .”  she said, flatly, and looking forward, not meeting his eyes.

“I did go to the hospital, you know?  Twice.  That first night, they wouldn’t let anyone in.  Then, the next morning, early – you were still in ICU, and I sweet talked one of the nurses into letting me in.  I held your hand, and you squeezed it, but the nurse said that was just reflex.” 

Finally, she let her eyes meet his, but she did not respond.  After a brief moment, she said, “Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you that the one thing we were so good at, has come to an abrupt end.”  She was not sarcastic, and she was not insincere because, for whatever their relationship had been, she had always enjoyed his company, and appreciated his attention.  He’d never treated her as anything less than a peer, and he’d always been perfectly respectful of her, even after she abandoned the theater for “daytime”, as they all liked to call it; the soap opera gig, the money job.

“That’s clearly not true,” he said.  “You’re here, having written a play, a good play from what I hear, and I hear everything.  I am a little hurt that you didn’t come to me about producing it, though.”

May Alice was taken aback.  He seemed absolutely sincere.  Was he actually placing their physical relationship second to their professional one?  _Oh, no wait,_ she reminder herself, _this is Ben.  This is what he’s known for, the sweet seduction._ She responded, “Sure you are,” with a smile that she hoped said, _I am on to you_.

“May Alice, you know I always said you could do so much more.”

“I thought you meant what I could do in bed,” she said, with a laugh so loud, the actors on stage stopped their action to look in her direction.  She hurried to shush herself, and assured the company they’d not be interrupted again.

She faced Ben and saw a small smile on his face.  He whispered, “You know that is _not_ what I meant.  But, no, I had no doubts about those skills either.”  He truly, was playing this well.  “Have dinner with me Saturday,” he stated.

“I can’t.”

“You can.  You will; I won’t take no for an answer, and I have to leave now, anyway, because I am the best-looking producer in New York, which means I’m very busy,” he said, as he stood to go, “So, you can’t argue.”  He bent over and kissed her cheek, and finished with, “I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” and, with that, he exited, leaving the scent of his magnificent after shave wafting behind.

“ _Oooh . . . ssshhit_ ,” she mumbled, as memories of their times together came rushing back.

Chantelle returned to the theater at 5:30, and the car service driver loaded May Alice into the limo, and asked where they would like to have dinner that evening.  In a rare change, May Alice looked tired, and confirmed it, by responding that she preferred to stay in that evening.  She, likely, would not have eaten at all, but it was much easier on her system when she ate at regular times, so, when their dinner arrived in the suite, they ate while discussing the stylist from the salon, and May Alice agreed the artist had perfectly reproduced the attractive style Chantelle had picked.  They talked more about the options for entertaining Denita but, finally, Chantelle could not avoid it any longer.  She had to know the story behind the beautiful Bennett Marley.  She must’ve caught May Alice with just the right amount of food and weariness, because May Alice was forthcoming with the details.  “Well,” she began, “it started like all clichés of the theater.  The young actress falls for the charismatic, powerful, director and they begin a ‘working relationship’.  Only, this one lasted beyond that play, and the next, and the next.  It wasn’t a romance, it was just sex.  And, for whatever reason, he kept coming back.  You’ve seen him, who was I to say no to _that_?  It was good, though, he was interesting, and fun, and nice, and the sex – well,” she trailed off a moment, then quickly continued, “Then I got married, only to find out I wasn’t very good at that; but I did miss sex.  Ben and I picked right back up, after, and he kept me from feeling like I was missing out on anything.” 

“You didn’t miss intimacy?”  Chantelle asked, having seen there was, obviously, a little more between May Alice and Ben than just sex.

“Yes, I guess I did, but, maybe, Ben gave me just enough consistent attention that I felt like we had some kind of intimacy?  Once in a while he would seek my opinion on things – back when he was directing.  Back then, theater was my focus, so, it felt like intimacy, when he used my ideas.  I guess it was enough.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Uh . . . well, he ordered me to have dinner with him Saturday,” she laughed.  “Of course, I can’t go – you have Denita, and your dad, and I have this,” she motioned to the wheelchair.  “He’s clearly not thought this through.”

“You can go if you want.  We can find out in advance about the facilities, so we’re sure you’ll be okay.”  She was happy for May Alice, finally, seeming to have one genuine friend.

“No . . . no, it’s fine, really.  I don’t think he realizes how different everything is now.  It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Chantelle said.

“Okay,” May Alice agreed.  And, with that, they ended their evening without any further talk of the incredible Mr. Marley; but rest assured, they both went to sleep with him on their mind.


	14. 14

**Chapter 14** **(M rating)**

Friday at the theater was tech rehearsal and it went better than they’d expected, for the first run.  Very few tweaks were needed, the actors, costumes, props and make up were perfect.  The weather outside was as warm and sunny, as it had been the previous day, and pleased with their efforts, no one felt like working anymore, so, at lunch Leslie West agreed to knock off and call it an early day.  Chantelle had arrived at her customary 11:30 a.m., and learned of the free afternoon.  She asked May Alice if she wanted to do anything in particular, and was a little surprised to her say she needed something appropriate to wear to dinner Saturday night.  Clearly, Chantelle realized, she had missed something overnight.  “You decided to go?”

“I did.  Well, I sort of did,” she didn’t continue, and Chantelle didn’t push.  They went shopping.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Saturday arrived and resulted in a busy morning.  Denita and Dr. Blades had arrived mid-morning from Chicago, and the four had enjoyed a nice lunch in the restaurant at the Plaza.  After, May Alice returned to the room while the others set out for FAO Schwartz.  She briefly thought about phoning Ben, in a last-ditch effort to change his mind about the evening, but she didn’t because she was actually looking forward to it.  That day in the theater with him, she realized she felt the most normal she had in over a year.  She’d longed for that feeling and it was why she changed her mind about dinner.  She didn’t care about his motives, she just wanted to feel beautiful again, to wear make-up and nice clothes, and forget, for a little while, that she would be in a wheelchair the rest of her life; and nothing could make a woman feel more beautiful than being on the arm of Bennett Marley.

Chantelle returned in plenty of time to help her dress for dinner.  In her absence, May Alice had done her own make-up and hair, and Chantelle was quite impressed with the combined effects.  She had noticed, in the first few days of their arrival, that May Alice had put more effort into her appearance than she did at home.  Her hair grown long in the months since summer, and Chantelle had believed that was more out of neglect than real intent, but during that first visit to the hair salon, May Alice had not requested the length to be shortened any, only trimmed and styled.  Once done, Chantelle observed, the woman had some pretty great hair.  Even that evening, with just some minor effort, a little more eye make-up than usual, and a killer red lip stick, Chantelle witnessed, first-hand, the star quality that she’d only heard about.  “You look very glamorous,” she said honestly.

“Darling,” May Alice responded with a sarcastic, southern drawl, “I _am_ very glamorous.”

Ben Marley arrived with his usual flourish, an hour later, bearing his killer smile, and bouquets of roses, one for each of the women.  His suit, Chantelle speculated, had to have cost a thousand dollars.  It was impeccable, and if she’d thought he was good looking before, he’d now achieved demi-God status.  She was pleased to see that May Alice could hold her own with the man.  Her suit was also impeccable; a smart, navy pin stripe Armani with a red silk shell underneath.  She’d tried to convince May Alice to shop for a dress but she was not comfortable with her legs, in spite of all the work she’d put into keeping them in shape; and wearing heels, she’d thought, was out of the question.  That was, until she’d tried a pair on.  She remembered how great her legs looked in those kinds of shoes.  Chantelle had quipped that paraplegics were the only women in world whose feet would not hurt from wearing such heels.  May Alice liked that thought so much, she, indeed, bought the shoes, but still opted for the suit over a dress.  Ben didn’t care either way; he seemed genuinely happy to see May Alice again, and complimented her in his most charming manner.  He greeted Chantelle with the same broad, beautiful smile, as he presented her with a bouquet of a dozen yellow roses.  He then introduced himself to Chantelle’s father, before either woman had a chance to do so.  Upon hearing the doctor address himself as Doctor Blades, Ben spoke briefly about medicine being, “the mercy of the civilized world,” and then turned his full attention to Denita.  Taking her little hand in his, he bowed to her, and declared, “I thought I was having dinner with the loveliest woman in New York City this evening, but, it appears I have been misinformed.”  He plucked a single white rose from May Alice’s bouquet, turned back to Denita and offered it to her saying, “Please allow me to welcome you to New York City, Miss Denita.”  Denita was speechless as she took the rose.  Ben finished, with his undivided attention, on May Alice.  He presented her bouquet, two dozen, all white roses, as he bent and kissed her lightly on the lips.  “You are exquisite,” he said simply, as he’d expected nothing less.

She smiled at him, then asked Chantelle if she’d not mind tending to the roses for her.  As she handed them over, Ben asked May Alice if she’d like to take one rose along with them.  “You mean,” she said, only half joking, “You don’t have more for me in the car?”

“May Alice, you know me too well!  Of course, I do!”  He turned, once again, to the family of three, and said with a wink and a smile, “A lady can never have too many flowers.”  With that, he bid a hearty farewell to the others, helped May Alice with her coat, then whisked the wheelchair out the door. 

When they’d gone, Chantelle turned to her father and daughter, only to find both staring, agape, at closed door and the remnants of the encounter.  “Wow,” is all Denita could say. 

“Yeah,” was all Chantelle could respond.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The evening was starting perfectly.  Ben had done his homework and had arranged a limo service with wheelchair room, and a driver who knew how to handle his guest.  He had been ready with every yes, to May Alice's no’s, about the night, and he was happy to find that he had not needed to use any of those persuasions.  And, he did, in fact, have another bouquet of flowers for May Alice in the limo.  Upon seeing them, May Alice shook her head and smiled, “They’re beautiful.”  She held his hand as the limo made its way through Manhattan to the best of Ben’s favorite, five-star restaurants, the one with the best wheelchair access, of course.

Picking up the spirits list as soon as the two had been seated at the restaurant, Ben began perusing its ample selection and asked her if he she’d be having her usual.  That had been the only apprehension about the evening she’d allowed herself all day; how to explain, without admitting, to Ben, that she could no longer keep a handle on her drinking.  It was so un-New York.  She hesitated a moment, then answered, “No, I won’t be having any drinks this evening.”

Ben’s eyes met with hers over the top of the drink menu, "Now, how am I going to seduce you without blurring your vision a bit?" he chided in response.

She smiled, and lied, “It interferes with some of the medications I take; but please, do have some yourself.”  Without missing a beat, Ben ordered a scotch and started, again, with the compliments to May Alice’s appearance, which she welcomed like the warmth she’d no longer get from, her usual, Kentucky bourbon.

Following the completion of their appetizer, May Alice leaned in and locked eyes with her handsome companion.  “All right, come on, Ben, what is this really all about?  Tell me the truth.”

“I told you, I missed you.”  She wanted to believe him, but she was nothing like the dim starlets, often on his arm, the ones who would believe anything he said, so, she continued her stare, and added a narrowing of her eyes, for emphasis.

“Oh . . . there's that savvy woman I know.  All right,” he relented, “here it is - my big, sinister plan.  Your play already has a buzz, which is unheard of for a daytime-actress-turned-playwright; hell, for any actor-turned-playwright; but there is talk.  If it holds up, Wyatt will need a bigger producer.  I want it.”

“Oh, thank God.  I was afraid this was about some _gimp_ fetish I never knew about,” she said, again, only partially joking.

Ben flashed his stunning smile in response and said, "Well, as you know, I am always looking for undiscovered _talent_."  She laughed, and smiled and, finally, fully relaxed into the familiar scene.  This is who she and Ben had been, casual, playful companions who didn’t expect, or demand, anything from one another, and who didn’t bullshit one another.  She was, again, grateful for that feeling of normalcy she’d hoped would return.

In keeping with normal, following dessert, Ben leaned in toward May Alice and said, "Stay the night."  May Alice laughed out loud, as she had done in the theater, only days before, but Ben did not.  He simply looked at her and smiled, and sent for the check, and the car.  Once settled in the limo, Ben removed the phone from its cradle and instructed her to call “her friend, Chantelle”.  May Alice was impressed he remembered Chantelle's name, so few got it right the first time.  But that was all part of Ben's charm.  Charm that, God help her, was sincere and, rarely, solely, self-serving.

“What do you want me to tell her?” She asked, with curiosity.

“Not to wait up.  I will take the night shift this time.”  As she pondered that, most bizarre, thought, Ben instructed the driver to return to his place, not the Plaza.  As the car moved, May Alice dialed her suite.

Chantelle answered right off, and said, "Are you here?  I'll come down.”  She nearly fell over when May Alice announced that she would be staying the night with Ben.  Chantelle was torn as to whether this was a silly joke Mr. Beautiful had convinced May Alice to pull on her, or whether she was really hearing sincerity in May Alice's voice.  It was the latter, she realized.  “Well, are you sure?  I mean . . .” but Chantelle knew May Alice would have thought through all her questions already, so she simply asked, “Are you all right?  He's not holding you hostage or anything, right?"

May Alice managed a nervous laugh, and said, “No. I will be fine for one night.  Enjoy your time with Denita.  Get some sleep."

"You know I won't sleep a wink," Chantelle said honestly.

"Well, that makes two of us," May Alice said with a wicked smile. Both women hung up, having no idea what the next six hours would bring.

Upon having closed his front door behind them, Ben turned to May Alice, dropped to his knees, and kissed her passionately.  Her mouth responded to his immediately, as though no time had passed between them, and, as though she could feel her excitement in the same way she once did.  It was there, it was different, but present, and it unnerved her.  She stopped kissing him, and asked, trying to mask her breathlessness, "What do you think is going to happen here, Ben?"

He did not answer.  He picked her up out of her chair, carried her down the hallway, into his room, and laying her on his bed, he kissed her again, this time deeply, and slowly, and when he stopped, he said, "The good Lord wouldn't take away one thing, without giving you something else, in return.  Let's see which of your senses are going to take over for your lower half, shall we?"  And then, the best-looking man Chantelle had ever seen, removed his jacket, and shirt, and began removing May Alice's clothing.  _Oh God,_ is all she could think ,as she dialed up memories of their many nights together, and while her hands worked to free his belt.

She knew, and trusted Ben, and, for the next few hours, she willingly followed his lead.  They learned what still worked, what didn't, and near the end, with Ben on top of her, she watched his face.  She could feel his body moving, and heavy over hers, she felt the heat of him, and of her own body, and she could see he was reaching his climax.  She was happy for him, happy that her body had betrayed only her.  She couldn't feel all of him, of course, but what she could feel, felt good, and she realized the rest of her body must still have been able to respond to Ben’s presence inside her, just as her mind vividly remembered how he used to feel there.  The combination of the foreplay, the memories of him, the scent and actual feel of him, the months without alcohol dulling her senses, the return to almost-normal, and now, the rhythm of his movement, and the familiar look on his face, everything, had worked in glorious concert to bring Mae Alice to her own climax.  Among the other sensations, she felt her upper body shake in response to what could only be an orgasm.  She was simultaneously thrilled and shocked at that idea.  _How the hell,_ quickly gave way to, _holy shit,_ and, finally, she allowed her mind to rest, for the first time, since her life had been so drastically altered over a year ago.  She fell soundly asleep in Ben’s arms and remained there the rest of the night.


	15. 15

**Chapter 15**

May Alice awoke to the sound of running water.  She opened her eyes and immediately knew where she was, but rarely, since she’d stopped drinking, had she recalled having slept so soundly through the night.  It was startling to awake in his room.  Ben was not in the bed.  He usually wasn’t, in her recollection.  The thought made her laugh a little.  She heard Ben enter the room from his bathroom.

“May I help you to the powder room?” he asked.  He was so nonchalant, but it was an absurd circumstance May Alice found herself in.  It was sweet of him, she knew, but she hated it.  So much had changed for her, but he seemed to have barely noticed.  It made her appreciate him more than she could ever have imagined.  “Come on,” he said, scooping up the sheet around her naked body.  He lifted her, and carried her into his bathroom. 

The commode in his master bath, she knew from her past visits there, was segregated by a half wall, from the rest of the amenities in the room.  The narrowness of the chamber would allow her to maneuver in lieu of hand rails.  She instructed Ben to set her down and assured him she could do the rest.  He did, as instructed, and as soon as he set her down, he moved away saying, “I drew the bath for you, hot with lots of bubbles, just like you like.  I’ll be back to help you into it when you’re ready.”

The bath was just what she needed.  Well, Ben was apparently, also, just what she’d needed, but right then, the bath was as welcomed.  He sat on the floor beside the tub reminiscing, at first, about their past but then, talking about ‘their’ future.  She was taken aback.  Again, Ben just didn’t seem to appreciate the ridiculousness of ‘their’ situation.

“What future might that be, Mr. Marley?” she asked.  “I am leaving here at the end of the month, remember?  I don’t live here.”

Then, it was Ben who was taken aback.  “You’re not coming back to New York?”  He’d genuinely assumed her foray into the theater was her way of returning. 

“No,” she said simply, looking into the bubbles in the bath.  When she looked up, a moment later, she thought he looked sad.

“Because of this?”  He motioned to area of the water where her legs were submerged. 

“Yes.  I guess.  I mean,” she looked at Ben, trying to gauge if he had a genuine interest in her continuing.  He was looking at her expectantly, with the same sadness on his face.  It touched her because, until that moment, he had never shown any emotion regarding her handicap.  In fact, of all the people who had known her before, and seen her after her accident, only Ben and Rennie had seemed oblivious to the alteration.  She looked away from his face but continued, “It’s not who I am anymore.  Hell . . .  it was never who I was.”  It was the single most intimate revelation she’d ever shared with Ben.

As quickly as the sadness had hit him, it dissipated, or was stifled, and Ben shifted from his sitting position on the floor to his knees.  He leaned over the tub, pecked May Alice on the cheek and said, “I’ll start the coffee.”  When he stood and reached the door, he turned back and said “Don’t drown.  I’ll be right back for you.”  She laughed to herself, both at his playful declaration, and the manner in which he could switch emotion, in the blink of an eye.  She wasn’t offended at the sudden dismissal of her disclosure.  She knew him well enough to know that he was simply going to try and change her mind.  It was his nature to never take no for answer, and she knew that better than anyone; it was exactly how she ended up in his bed . . . again.

Ben returned, helped her from the tub and helped wrap her in a thick robe.  It was warm and soaked up the water instantly, and it smelled like him.  She liked that.  They had coffee and toast for breakfast and Ben moved into more familiar territory, the theater.  He discussed his most recent production, and what he had in development, and he, once again, brought up that he would be looking seriously at producing her play once they saw how the test audiences received it.  She didn’t have much, by way of conversation, to offer in return, because she had been distracted ever since she’d said to him that she was not coming back to New York.

She had meant it when she said it, but she was realizing that she’d never, consciously, decided that.  She just assumed it had been decided for her, fourteen months ago.  Yet, sitting there in that familiar setting, she wondered why, indeed, had she written the play?  It was a question she determined she didn’t have time for right then.  She refocused her attention on Ben, and they began discussing who Wyatt and Teller would be inviting to the opening.  Following breakfast, May Alice finally called Chantelle to report that she survived the evening, and would be returning to the Plaza within the hour.

She felt awkward putting the Armani back on the morning after its designated purpose.  She’d not brought make up along, and what she’d been wearing the evening before, she’d washed away in the tub.  Looking at herself in his mirror, she had to laugh at the incongruity.  She realized it was the perfect symbolization of her life right then.

When she rolled her chair into the living room Ben was hanging up from a phone call.  He looked guilty of something.  She looked expectantly until he said, “I am so sorry, May Alice.  I have a slight issue with one of my actors who was arrested last night.  I need to get to the jail as soon as possible.  Will you be all right going with the driver alone?”

“Of course,” she said, grateful for the break.  She felt like he would be embarrassed to be seen with her anyway, in her incompatible condition.  _Thank God for large, dark sunglasses_ , she thought.  She was praying no one else had to see her doing the walk, or rather, wheel of shame. 

As soon as the driver had situated her comfortably in the limo, Ben leaned in and kissed her gingerly on the lips.  “I have missed you.  Thank you for another incredible evening”. 

Uncharacteristically, she grabbed his hand and held him in place for a moment.  She looked directly into the blue pools of his eyes and said, with a sincerity that surprised even her, “Bennett Marley, you are as charming as the day is long, I will miss you.”  Then she released his hand.  He smiled at her as he stepped back to the curb, closed her door, and motioned for the driver to depart.  It was a perfect parting and she could not have been more content.

Once back at the Plaza, May Alice made her own way to the elevator and up to the suite, to the utter surprise of Chantelle, who was still waiting for a call from Ben to report their arrival.  May Alice looked around, hoping neither Denita, nor Dr. Blades, were present in the main room of the suite yet.  Dr. Blades had insisted on booking his own room at the Plaza, but he had generously allowed Denita to stay with Chantelle.  Still, he was due to join them any moment.  She was eternally grateful to see no one, besides Chantelle.  “Denita still sleeping?”  she asked.

“Yeah.  I let her to stay up late since my Dad turned in early.  We had such a great time.”

“Can you help me get out of these clothes?”  May Alice asked as she started toward her room. 

“Of course.  So . . .” she paused, trying not to sound too eager, but abandoning that in futility, continued, _“_ how was your night?!”

May Alice smiled, remembering the evening.  “It was pretty great,” was all she responded for a few moments.  As they got her out of the Armani, and into something more appropriate, May Alice elaborated a bit for Chantelle.  “All my nights with Ben were pretty great.  Last night was really no exception, much to my surprise.”

Chantelle’s features twisted at the question forming in her mouth, and before she could even stop it, she began, “Did you . . . um . . .you know, did you-”

_“Yes_ ,” May Alice interrupted, bearing a Cheshire cat grin.  “Your literature was not exactly right, but it was not wrong.”

“Oh, my _God!_ ”  Chantelle said, and then both women broke into laughter, like they were teenagers.

The movement and discussion in the suite had apparently been enough to wake Denita who’d wandered into the room right about the time of Chantelle’s exclamation, ceasing any further discussion they may have shared on the topic.  They did not revisit it later either, as activities and time, simply, did not allow for much other than entertaining Chantelle’s family, and opening night play preparations.  In fact, between those two competing priorities, the women had little time to even speak to one another about anything other than logistics.  It would be another four days before they found themselves seated by one another, in their theater seats, awaiting the final dress rehearsal to begin before the play’s opening.  Both were lost in thought about the weeks past, and the week to come, but May Alice made time to finally check in on Chantelle.

“It seemed like your visit went well,” she said.

“Yeah,” Chantelle answered, still a bit lost in the thoughts, “I think it did.”  Then, she looked at May Alice and said, “It just gets harder and harder to say goodbye to her, you know?”

May Alice didn’t know, but she could imagine, and she sympathized with her friend.  She patted Chantelle’s hand and said, “One day you won’t have to, my friend.  I believe that.”

Chantelle had seen it all now, she thought.  New York had done wonders for May Alice.  Chantelle had enjoyed seeing the emergence of the funny, smart, confident, professional May Alice that she’d spent the last five weeks with.  But, that last gesture illustrated a sincere empathy that astounded Chantelle.  Never, in any of the time she’d spent with May Alice, did she ever think May Alice would truly see her as peer, as a friend.  She had no idea how to process it and, simply sat, with her mouth mentally agape, as the curtain on the stage rose.  It was the first time Chantelle had seen the play in its entirety.  She had not heard all of the re-written dialogue, nor, witnessed the lighting, and costumes, all in concert.  She had liked the story she’d read months before, but seeing the work that day, presented as May Alice must have envisioned it, was truly exciting.  She couldn’t imagine what May Alice must have been feeling.

Upon the conclusion of the production, she looked at May Alice, who was smiling, and thanking everyone for their amazing work.  With Chantelle’s help, she stood in the row, holding on to the chair back in front of her, and delivered an impromptu, short, but eloquent, speech to the cast and crew.  She briefly singled out Leslie, and praised her intuition with bringing to life, even better versions of the characters than May Alice had written.  Then, she thanked Austin and Lisa for their tireless efforts and sheer belief in her work.   Again, Chantelle was witnessing a genuine and humble version of the May Alice she’d known, and while she was still astonished by it, she was also very, very proud of the woman.  As she was pondering the thought, she realized May Alice was facing her and saying her name. 

“. . . the most important thank you, of all, goes to you,” May Alice was saying, “for helping me get back so much of what of I lost.  I could never have done any of this without you.”  She held her arms out toward Chantelle, who embraced her, amidst a round of applause from the cast and crew.  And then, May Alice, again, turned to face the stage and finished, “Whatever happens after tomorrow, know that you have all served this production better than I ever could have hoped for.  You’re all a credit to your profession, and I know you’ll continue on.  You will be amazing.”

The stage erupted into more applause and shouts and whistles and shortly after, the group all began to disperse.  May Alice and Chantelle gathered up their belongings, loaded May Alice into her chair and started up the aisle toward the lobby of the theater.  When they neared the top, Chantelle realized Ben was standing atop the row, awaiting their arrival.  He had his overcoat on, and he was removing gloves, so, she surmised, he’d just arrived.  “Looks like you have company,” she whispered to May Alice.

The man greeted the women with his usual charisma and told them he’d be taking them for a late dinner.  Chantelle was glad when May Alice declined on their behalf.  She was exhausted, and had truly been looking forward to getting to bed and getting to sleep in the next day.  She was still catching up from her late nights with Denita, and was still feeling the effects of having to, once again, say goodbye to her only child.  She could see Ben was not accustomed to being told no, so, she moved away from the two, and waited in the lobby, hoping he’d not be as persuasive as he had been with May Alice the weekend prior.  The pair soon followed, and to her relief, Ben said to her, “Good night, Chantelle.  I look forward to seeing you both again tomorrow night.  Sleep well,” he looked directly at May Alice and winked at her as he finished, “You’ll need it.”

The drive home was mostly quiet, as Chantelle was not the only one who was exhausted.  Just before their arrival at the Plaza, Chantelle said quietly to May Alice, “Thank you for what you said at the theater.” 

“I meant it; not just the physical help, either.  You helped me in other ways too.”

“We helped each other,” Chantelle responded.  “That’s what friends do.”  May Alice smiled.  She finally felt like Chantelle was thinking of her as a friend, and not just an employer.  “Of course,” Chantelle added, “you still have to pay me,” causing both women an outburst of laughter.


	16. 16

**Chapter 16**

That evening, unable to fall asleep right away, although being truly tired, May Alice’s mind would not stop churning.  She was nervous about the play’s opening and all the obvious questions that went along with that.  _What if no one comes, because what do I know about writing a play?  Maybe they’ll come just to make fun, or worse, see the freak in the wheelchair.  What if the audience doesn’t laugh where they should?  What if it’s not funny at all?  Or, what if it is funny, and then it sells?_   That string of questioning, eventually, led her to the real issue, the one she’d been avoiding since the moment she’d first asked it of herself.  Why had she written the play if returning to New York wasn’t what she’d wanted?  Like she’d told Ben, she was fairly certain she did not want to return to New York.  Yet, she’d not written a novel, or a short story, she’d written a play.  _Why?_   She had been happy there, _hadn’t she?_   She’d been lucky enough to be doing exactly what she thought she wanted to, and she was making good money.  _So, why not come back?_   She began thinking about her friends there.  _There was Ben, and Rhonda, and . . . well, she didn’t really see Ben all that much, and Rhonda was married, so they didn’t do a whole lot socially, unless it was tied to the show.  Her other cast mates . . . No, she didn’t really like many of them outside of work, or even at work, really._   Suddenly, her mind filled with memories of Rennie, and her conflicted mood immediately lightened.  Enjoying those thoughts more, she let her mind fill with them until she fell asleep.  When she awoke in the morning, she felt, uncharacteristically, calm.  The question she’d not found the answer to, the night before, no longer seemed as pressing, nor, even all that interesting with the light of day.  For those reasons, and because there had been no time, it did not resurface. 

Following her rise, and bath, she and Chantelle ate breakfast in the suite.  While they ate, the first of several deliveries arrived for May Alice.  It was a black garment bag and, a card affixed to the outside, had May Alice’s name on it.  She pulled the card and looked at it, but did not read it aloud.  She smiled upon reading it and Chantelle thought she blushed a little too.  “It’s from Ben,” she said.  She unzipped the bag and pulled out an exquisite ivory silk suit with a black embroidered damask pattern on the lapels.  It absolutely looked like something May Alice would wear, they both agreed.  Of course, it would fit her perfectly, she had zero doubt about Ben’s abilities.

The next interruption was a call from Lisa informing her that the hair and makeup artists from the soap would be arriving at 2:30 p.m., to prep her for the night.  Austin called after Lisa had, and reminded them that a limo was being sent at 5:30 p.m.  In between, a fruit and flower basket arrived from the management at the Plaza.  Those would be followed by more flowers, one from Redwood Vance, her former producer on the soap, one from the management of the theater, and one from the car service the women had been using since January.  Finally, Chantelle had to ask, “I thought you said this presentation was not a big deal?  You said it was just to test the material and see if there was enough interest to sell it; but you have more flowers than a dead person!  A suit?  Hair?  Professional Make up people?”

“It is a bit much, isn’t it?” May Alice giggled.  “I don’t know, Chantelle, I’ve never seen anything like this.  It’s so ridiculous.  Or, maybe you’re right, it’s a burial suit, and flowers for the dead.”  Chantelle hoped May Alice’s prolific self-doubt was not returning and she was just being sarcastic. 

In order to bolster the latter, she replied, “Well, you’ll make one stunning corpse, I’ll tell you that.”

May Alice laughed and added, “And if the play flops, we can open a floral studio.” 

As they finished off their breakfast, enjoying what were sure to be the last quiet moments of the day, May Alice, again, suddenly recalled an image of Rennie; one of the more pleasant ones from the night before.  “You know, I have completely forgotten about Rennie,” she confessed to Chantelle.  “How do you suppose they’re all doing?”

“Actually, I wrote to him, and he wrote back,” Chantelle answered cautiously.  May Alice shot her a look of surprise so she continued, “Hey, I had a lot of down time, remember?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?  What’d he say?”  May Alice asked eagerly.

“Well . . . it’s not the best news; I guess it’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Acadia?”

“No, actually, she’s doing really well.  It’s Arlene.”  Chantelle noticed the quizzical look on May Alice’s face upon hearing that, but she was not sure how she should proceed.  She didn’t know how May Alice would react, but she knew the information would have some effect.  Again, it was why Chantelle had not told her about the letter to begin with.  She hadn’t wanted to add to May Alice’s stress by telling her something she knew would be, at a minimum, distracting.  She’d opted to wait until May Alice brought up the topic of Rennie, which she’d not until today, or she’d bring it up on the flight home.  “Arlene left him and the kids right after Christmas.”

May Alice was shocked.  Her mind was instantly battling between outrage and sorrow.  Outraged at remembering, first, how the woman had endangered her child, then, learning she’d abandoned the rest; and sorrow, for what she knew Rennie must have been dealing with all that time.  Outrage and sorrow were soon joined by her sincere guilt.  She was ashamed at having gone this long without so much as a thought of her friend.  It was so typical of her, she reproached herself.  _No wonder you have no real friends; you don’t deserve any._ She was so overcome by those internal workings, she remained speechless even longer than Chantelle anticipated she might.

 In effort to help her out, Chantelle offered, “He’s doing all right.  He said the first weeks were rough, but they pulled together and are coming along now.  He tells the kids she’ll be back, but he’s not so sure.” 

That had been enough to help May Alice join the conversation again, but, all she could say was “I can’t believe it.”  She paused again, then added, “Thank you for writing to him.  I never would have thought to,” she said with sadness.

Empathizing with her, Chantelle offered, “It’s not like you didn’t have a million other things to worry about.” 

She nodded absently, and wheeled herself away from the table.  She was surprised that the sense of calm she’d awakened with was returning, but this time, with a different catalyst.  While she was heartbroken for Rennie, and embarrassed for herself, there was not a single thing she could do to change the situation.  The combination of her emotions, mixed with her helplessness, overwhelmed her and resulted in a hollow tranquility that settled in and remained with her the rest of the day.

Chantelle had not been kidding about May Alice being a stunning corpse.  Once the hair and make-up professionals had finished with her, she looked truly dazzling.  _She looked beautiful the night of her date with Ben, but this, this, was full-on celebrity_ , Chantelle thought.  She expected the attitude to follow, and she was kind of looking forward to that; to then, she’d only seen glimpses of May Alice, the actress.  But, May Alice was still very quiet, like she had been all day.  Even decked out in the impeccable silk suit, the high heels that had been hiding in the bottom of the garment bag, the hair and the make-up, she was painfully still.  Chantelle didn’t press her for the reason, she surmised it was some kind of acting technique; maybe something actors practiced to remain focused, and to quell anxiety. 

By 7:30 p.m., May Alice, Chantelle, Lisa and Austin were all positioned to watch the production from a small, private box in the balcony of the theater.  In the crowd that night, Chantelle noticed several of the actors from May Alice’s former soap.  Rhonda, and her husband were there, and she recognized two other women who’d visited Lafayette the previous summer.  Aside from them, Chantelle learned the audience was mostly industry people and local press.  The goal, of course, was to generate enough interest in a six-day run of the play, to sell it to a larger production group who could fund it on the bigger stage, thus, the rest of the audience was rounded out by “suits” that Chantelle would not have recognized.  She did, however recognize, Bennett Marley.  He was front row, center. 

When the lights dropped, and the curtain opened, May Alice was still cool as a cucumber and it had really started to worry Chantelle.  She finally whispered, “Did you sneak a shot or something today?  I have never seen you so calm.”

“No, no shot,” she chuckled and whispered back, “Although, I’d kill for one right now.”

“Then how are you doing it?”

“I don’t know.  I try to remind myself that I really have nothing to lose now.” 

It was true.  If the play re-sold, great, but she didn’t need the money, and she realized she probably didn’t need the accolades either.  She just liked learning, maybe, she still had something marketable to offer; something more to contribute.  Taking that knowledge to heart, she could mentally relax.  She was genuinely excited about the play’s opening, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know every line, every movement, intimately by then.  The reaction of the first live audience had started well, and she was encouraged to think that would continue and, regardless, like she essentially said to Chantelle, it was out of her hands then, anyway.  Her mind began to wander and returned to the news about Rennie.

She was still upset with herself, wondering, again, how she could have deserted thoughts of Rennie for so long.  _Rennie is what’s real_ , she thought to herself.  _Rennie is what matters_. _I never should have allowed him to take second place to my being back here._ As she acknowledged that thought, the question that had plagued her the night before returned, but this time, she had her answer.  _I wrote the play because I wanted to._  That was it.  No master plan, no agenda, no subliminal messages to herself.  She wrote it because it was something to do and she was, finally, fortunate enough to have the time, the experience, and the skill to do it.  Doing it well, was just a bonus.  It was such a simple revelation, and she’d so completely overcomplicated it before, that she giggled a little at her absurdity, which prompted Chantelle to glance over at her, momentarily.  Although a little less conflicted by unburying that bit of knowledge, the sadness was ever present.  She’d neglected her friend at, what must certainly have been, one of the worst times possible.  _And those kids,_ she recalled, _those sweet, sweet children; what must they be feeling?_   _Alone since Christmas . . . It was unforgivable_ , she thought.  She had the urge to leap from her seat, and find the nearest phone; but she couldn’t leap from her seat if it had been on fire, so, she waited patiently, hoping she’d not be too late, hoping she could still be of some use to Rennie with this ordeal.

As the curtain fell on the final line of the play, the crowd remained quite accepting, and there was rousing applause.  Ben, who had been front row center, was no longer present.  Chantelle found that intriguing, and assumed he was on his way to their box to fawn over May Alice.  But Ben did not arrive, and she did not see him again that evening.  She’d become a little incensed by that by the time she and May Alice were leaving the theater an hour and a half later.  For May Alice, the praises had been flowing in those ninety minutes.  She had been in a constant receiving line since the end of the show.  Chantelle watched her, again, with a bit of pride seeing how gracious she could be in such a situation.  She spoke to every person who wanted to talk, and she didn’t rush a single one along.  She accepted the compliments, on both her appearance, and her play, easily, which was something Chantelle had rarely, if ever, witnessed in her.  It was not a criticism, just, an observation that May Alice seemed quite unaware that she could be a charming, pretty, and accomplished woman, worthy of such praises.  May Alice seemed to know a great many of those who’d waited to see her which, again, made Chantelle ponder why so few had come to visit her in the past weeks.  Then, she remembered that, even Ben had been absent up until about a week ago. 

Chantelle had been even more impressed with the show than she had been at the final dress rehearsal.  She, now, understood the importance of the audience reaction for the actors.  They were good before, but they were superb that evening.  She was happy to have been a part of it, but, now she worried, what if? _What if May Alice rediscovered her love of the theater, and New York, and this life?  She’d fit right back in, and she had barely given Rennie any thought, at all, in those weeks.  Had he just been something May Alice had passed the time fantasizing about until she’d found a way back here,_ she wondered?  _There would be no way her father would allow Denita to live in New York City if that’s what May Alice decided_.  Fortunately, Chantelle arrived at that troubling thought just moments before their departure from the theater; she hadn’t a lot of time to continue to dwell on it.

The final goodbyes that evening were between May Alice, Austin, Lisa, and Leslie.  They each agreed the show had gone as well as they could have hoped, and didn’t wish to change anything for Saturday night, or the follow-on performances.  They agreed to touch base again in the morning, following the release of early reviews.  The “real” reviews, they knew would follow Saturday’s performance; those would show up in the New York Times’ Sunday edition, and the trade papers, as well, but, the preliminary reviews would give them enough information to know what they might expect, overall.

Once inside the limo, Chantelle couldn’t resist sharing her enthusiasm over the play and, again, May Alice accepted the praise with an honest, thank you.  Chantelle was still amazed at how cool May Alice appeared over the whole thing and finally had to exclaim, “Aren’t you excited?!”

May Alice laughed at the woman’s eagerness, and shared it to an extent, but, ever since her earlier realization about the play, and its simple genesis, she was truly content over the way everything turned out.  “It was a lot of fun, yes,” she admitted.  Then, she momentarily reflected on the whole process, and exclaimed, “Who knew?!”

That’s what she said, but, in her heart, though she’d never tell a soul, having seen that performance, the culmination of all her work, was not only better than she’d ever envisioned, it was perfect; and she was overwhelmed at the thought that she’d created it.  She had grown so fond of the play since its meager start in a green spiral notebook on that muggy night in Louisiana.  She felt like it might the closest thing to raising a child that she’d ever know.  The thought, now, that she’d potentially have to give it up to another producer, who could choose another director, and another cast, and, basically, do whatever he or she wanted to, might just break her heart.  She had a sudden moment of anxiety and, briefly, hoped that the play would not garner the right kind of buyer.

When they arrived back at the Plaza, they were inundated by the lingering floral scent that flooded the suite in their absence.  They laughed in unison, remembering the stunning corpse comments from earlier in the day.  But, the flowers also reminded Chantelle about the conspicuous absence of Bennett Marley after the show.  As they prepared May Alice for bed, Chantelle approached the subject.  “I was sure we’d see Ben after the show.  Is it possible he didn’t like it after all?”

“Oh,” May Alice said, “Well, that’s an interesting thing about the fabulous Mr. Marley.  He is actually quite an introvert when it’s not beneficial for him not to be.  He hates crowds, unless they are “his” crowds.  As for liking, or not liking the play, he doesn’t care about that.  He only cares what the audience reaction is, and after the first act, he’d have already decided if he were interested or not.  He probably snuck out right about then,” she said casually.

“Well, it’s a shame he didn’t see you in that suit.”

May Alice just smiled, recalling how great she’d felt wearing it.  Ben knew how to make her feel special and he clearly had a knack for knowing what she needed, even when she didn’t.  Last Saturday night had been no exception.  As she lay back into the luxurious bed she’d likely be abandoning soon, her mind began to reminisce about the show, about New York and its energy, about that last night with Ben, and about many other great nights with him, and quickly, all those thoughts helped her forget any anxiety over the play.


	17. 17

**Chapter 17**

Saturday morning started earlier than either, May Alice, or Chantelle had wanted, or planned.  The phone rang at 7:30 a.m.  May Alice was able to answer on her room’s extension which was right at her bedside.  No hello, or good morning, greeted her, just an urgent Austin Wyatt saying, “We have a problem.”  Her heart fell, believing the reviews had come in, and were awful. 

“What?” she asked, cautiously.

“Curtis Max was jumped last night and beaten up pretty good.  We’ll have to use Martin.  When can you be at the theater?”  Curtis, was the male lead character in the play.  Martin Gregory was, somewhat an understudy, but he had another role in the play, and that role, had no understudy.  They’d need to re-work the scenes in which he, and Curtis, appeared together, and they only had twelve hours to do it.  That night’s performance was the real deal; the performance open to public, and to the critics, unlike the previous night’s, more targeted, crowd of smaller media, and production houses.

Chantelle, having heard the phone, and also expecting news about the reviews, had arrived at May Alice’s bedside.  She couldn’t tell what was happening on the other end of the phone, but May Alice’s face told her, whatever it was, it was not good.

“Oh, uh . . . I guess, as soon as we can.  We’ll have to see if we can get the car service,” May Alice said, as she looked at Chantelle for some, non-existent, confirmation.  Austin understood, and said do the best she could.  He informed her he already had Leslie and Martin in route to the theater just before he hung up.  Chantelle looked back at May Alice, still trying to decipher who was on the phone, and where they were going that they needed a car, and quickly.  As soon as the call concluded, May Alice was moving for the wheelchair and she began explaining the overnight events, and those to come. 

May Alice had been, unusually, quiet that morning as they’d prepared for their rushed departure to the theater.  Chantelle thought she must have been contemplating how to re-write the scenes, so, she just helped her along and didn’t ask about any reviews.  Within forty minutes the women were in the lobby of the Plaza, grabbing muffins and coffee as they waited for the car service. 

Once in the car, Chantelle took advantage of the minutes they’d have on the drive and said, “So, did Wyatt say anything about the reviews?”

May Alice thought a moment, then chuckled because she’d not even given that a second thought.  “Oh my God, I forgot.”  She paused a moment, then added, “Maybe Austin read them, then beat up Curtis?”  She looked at Chantelle with a deadpan look on her face, but immediately, both women burst out laughing.

“Better him, than you,” Chantelle concluded.

The pair, along with the actor, costumer, director, and two producers, worked diligently from the moment May Alice and Chantelle arrived that morning, until 1:00 p.m., when it became clear that May Alice needed a break.  She had re-written six scenes in four hours and was not happy with most of them, but, they didn’t have time for much adjustment and she just couldn’t focus any longer.  As soon as she’d complete one rewrite, Martin and Leslie would block the new movement for the lighting crew.  Somehow, in all that, Martin rehearsed the new dialogue, while the tailor made alterations to Curtis’ costumes so they’d fit the slightly shorter, understudy-turned-lead.  Chantelle was more impressed by the skill of those people than she ever had been.  Throughout the morning, other members of the cast had arrived to help re-block their work to accommodate the changes.  Every one of them worked non-stop and no one had a single complaint. 

May Alice asked Chantelle to help her get to the edge of the stage.  She requested to stand a bit while they awaited the arrival of food.  As they stood, May Alice finally remembered to ask Lisa, who was seated in the front row, busily mocking up the replacement programs for the evening, what the reviews had been.  She answered absently, “They were great, why?” 

Chantelle and May Alice looked at one another, both puzzled by Lisa’s casual response.  Then, May Alice smiled for the first time, and said under her breath to Chantelle, “Well, that’s good because after tonight, they’re going to suck.”

“I heard that,” Lisa said, looking up from her work for only a moment to offer a challenging, cocked eyebrow in response.

“Well, if I don’t get my shit together soon, it will be true, regardless of how well Martin is doing.  Tell you what, just in case, while you’re mocking that up, change the author’s name to Scarlett Redmond.” Scarlett Redmond had been May Alice’s character on ‘Manhattan General’.

“Nice,” Lisa said dismissively.  She didn’t look up, but, she continued, “Careful May Alice, you don’t want to give the people expecting you to fail the satisfaction of actually doing so.”

That struck a nerve; May Alice knew there were people who would want her to fail.  Jealousy was rampant in the business, and actors who tried to be anything else were often frowned upon.  She couldn’t blame them, whoever they might be, because she knew a year ago, she was just like them.  She offered no witty comeback that time.  Instead, she asked Chantelle to bring the wheelchair back and, at the same time, the food arrived.  While they ate, she again, asked about the reviews.  Austin had joined them by then, and he confirmed Lisa’s response.  They were good reviews, equally complimentary of the acting, and the writing; just as the trio had believed the night before.  Lisa asked May Alice, “Did you really think they might not be good?” 

“Yes.  Everyone’s a critic, literally.  There were bound to be some that were . . .maybe, not good . . .” she was losing her own argument because she was wrong, and she knew it.  Her play was better than good; it was really good.  Again, for a moment, she became that possessive parent over the work, wondering how it would feel if she had to turn it over to a complete stranger. 

She looked at Lisa, who was smiling broadly, “You’re an idiot, May Alice,” she said, laughingly, as she tossed her sandwich wrapper in the trash.  “I’m off to the printer.  See you in an hour.  Try to write something that doesn’t suck,” she winked, and walked away.  May Alice shook her head, laughing to herself with the realization that, not only was she right about her play, she had been right about choosing Lisa.  She realized, too, that if her work did sell, it would benefit everyone associated with it.

The food, the preliminary reviews, and the acknowledged confidence in herself, had reinvigorated her.  Over the next two hours, she, once again, re-wrote four, of the six, scenes needing the most alteration.  She fell into a rhythm in which she was adroitly combining dialogue from Martin’s two roles so that he would have the best chance at getting in all the necessary information, even if he didn’t get the lines exactly right.  It was the simplest solution, but the frenzy of the morning had played to her sense of failure, keeping her from seeing it until then.  Martin was happy with the simplicity of the changes, as well.  He, fortunately, excelled at improvisation, so, focusing on ideas instead of memorizing lines, was something he felt he could succeed with.

Leslie West stopped the rehearsal at 5 p.m.  She believed there was not much more the cast could do at that point.  They needed to rest and prepare for the show; they’d have to go with what they had.  She complimented the actors on their work that day.  She reminded them that, above all, they’d performed as professionals, maybe more that day than any prior, and she was genuinely pleased with each of them.  Martin was the last to depart the stage for the break.  Before he left, he approached May Alice and thanked her for having faith in him, and assured her that he would do everything he could to honor her writing.  Once again, Chantelle witnessed a genuine kindness in May Alice with her response to Martin.  “Mr. Gregory, you are the very definition of the word actor.  My work could not be in more capable hands.  I thank you for that.”

The women decided to try to make it back to the Plaza to change clothes and return to the theater.  They’d be cutting the opening close, they knew, with May Alice’s limitations, but in the big picture, their presence was not really needed until the end of the show, so, if they were late, it would not be the end of the world.  As it went, they made the 8:00 p.m. opening with 25 minutes to spare.

The production went all right, May Alice thought.  It wasn’t the version she’d worked so hard to perfect; that was the previous night’s show, and she was happy they had, at least, seen it, one time, the way she’d intended.  The altered version did not flow easily, which was to be expected by the cast and crew, but the majority of that audience had little idea of the many, last-minute, alterations, other than the substitution of Martin Gregory.  To them, this _was_ the play, and those were the reviews that would be most widely read.  Regardless, Martin was outstanding, and the other actors ended up improvising almost as often as he did.  The result introduced a new kinetic dynamic to that version of the play, and the audience still laughed in all the right places, and the poignant ending that May Alice prided herself on, still, hit perfectly.  It had more energy than the original, more polished, production which helped cover the inevitable flaws introduced by the, less than one day, rehearsal version.  It was an okay balance, May Alice decided.  She could not be upset about that.  

Her role with the critics, following the play that night, would normally have just been a rehash of the questions others would have asked her the previous evening, but, upon discovering that evening’s performance had changed significantly, by replacing a lead actor, and eliminating another role all together, the questions would be many.  May Alice, Austin, and Lisa, had all agreed earlier in the day they’d try to downplay the reason for Curtis’ exit.  There were rumors that his mugging happened under dubious circumstances, so, true or not, they’d wanted to give him time to recover in private.  The united front simply amounted to, “Curtis had an urgent family matter, and was unable to fulfill his commitment to the rest of the performances.”

The reviews that printed the following morning were still favorable.  Not glowing, and the writing took a hit in them, but May Alice did not take it personally because she knew what the real play was supposed to be like, and if it sold, that would be the version that would be reproduced.  If it didn’t get picked up, that was okay, too, because it served its purpose for her.  Writing had given her confidence back, and she knew there was still one thing she could do.  It was the greatest gift she could have ever received, and she’d given it to herself.

Sunday’s matinee performance was smoother, and the audience smaller but, equally, receptive.  They all surmised Tuesday and Wednesday night’s crowds would, likely, be about the same, so, with some of the pressure vented, they were finally able to breathe a little, and just enjoy watching the fruits of their labor play out, maybe for the last few times.

As is traditional with theater, Monday was “dark”, and the break was needed.  Chantelle and May Alice had nothing planned, and May Alice had even declared she would not be doing her pool therapy that day in order to rest.  By 10 a.m. they were both still lounging around in the suite, still in their pajamas when the phone rang.  It was Ben, he was on his way up from the lobby.  Knowing there was little time to try to and be more presentable, Chantelle quickly helped May Alice with a robe.  Then, Chantelle flew into her room to dress, giving May Alice and Ben time alone to discuss whatever it was he was here so urgently insisting to see her about.

May Alice opened the door for Ben and apologized for her appearance.  Naturally, she thought, he would look perfect, and he did.  He disregarded her appearance, reminding her that on several occasions, he’d seen her in exactly the same state after an evening with him.  It didn’t help, she felt awful in comparison to his flawless ensemble.  She motioned him in to the living room of the suite and asked if he’d like coffee.  He declined, saying he’d not be staying, which he’d also said on the phone from the lobby, and then he turned to her and handed her a manila envelope.

“What is this?”

“It’s my offer.  I am optioning your play.  Wyatt and Teller will receive the offer today, and I think you’ll all find it generous,” he flashed his famous smile at her and, while she hated to admit it, it still warmed her.

“You don’t produce satire,” she pointed out, trying to get her mind off him, and back on business.

“I am about to produce my first.  Don’t you find it fitting that your first is also my first?”  he asked, with a sly grin.

“Okay, sure,” she said, flatly, trying not to buy into his charm.  They had learned years before, they were each other’s first, as casual lovers, and they’d excelled at that, but she knew Ben did not charm over nothing.  He was deadly serious when it came to producing, and the fact he had an offer on the table with only two, very different, showings of her satire was something to be flattered by. 

She didn’t open the envelope, but she motioned Ben to sit down on the chair closest to her.  As he did, she placed her hand on his forearm, and looked him directly in the eyes.  A warm smile came naturally to her face.  “You are a generous man, Ben.  I am flattered to share another first with you,” this time it was she who’d produced the sly grin.

He leaned in, and kissed her gingerly on the cheek.  “So, you’re saying yes to my offer?”

“Well, it’s only partially up to me,” she lied, “but, I can be persuasive.”

“I have no doubt about that, Miss Culhane; no doubt, whatsoever.”  Her first play, her first attempt, even, was an incredible feat, and Marley had a sense about these things.  If he were the one to take it to the big stage, she could not have been happier.  He would do it justice, and she liked that.  Turning it over to a complete stranger, again, seemed inconceivable, and she was happy that she’d not have to.

And, so it went, Wyatt and Teller needed no persuading; Ben’s offer was above standard, and placing his name alongside theirs was more valuable to them than the money anyway.  The trio arrived in Ben’s spacious office on St. Patrick’s Day.  He was the perfect, polished host.  May Alice was quaking on the inside, thrilled at their coup, and she’d assumed it would be the same for Lisa.  This was just another day for Wyatt, of course, he was Ben’s equal, on many levels.  May Alice was surprised, however, to see that Lisa was as equable as could be.  She held her own with Marley, being every bit as gracious and professional, never once coming across as being the underdog in the proceedings.  She was a marvel, May Alice thought. 

While she never would give herself the credit for it, May Alice had been the catalyst for bringing two successful people together that year, who, in the years following, would become something even greater.  Not only, with her freshman satire, which would enjoy a decent, one-year run on Broadway, but, especially in the years that followed, Lisa and Ben would go on to produce two musicals together, one of which would garner them a Tony. 


	18. 18

**Chapter 18**

Following the signing of the option, Ben insisted they all join him for lunch so he could tell them what his goals for his production might be.  Only Wyatt had declined the invitation, having several other fish to fry.  Chantelle was amazed at how different, and yet, the same, Ben was with his business.  He had been commanding, direct, and articulate during the contract hand off.  Gone was the flirty charm she’d been privy to, yet, he was every bit the charismatic leader during the legalities.   At lunch however, the Ben she’d never tire of watching, was back; all charm, all charisma. 

As soon as they’d all settled at their table in the restaurant, he admitted that he really only had two goals for the play.  “First,” he said, as he swirled the bourbon around in his glass, “I would like to sign you, Miss Teller, as Producer.”  May Alice was thrilled to hear that, both for Lisa’s benefit, as well as, the play’s.  Lisa smiled, but remained silent, and Chantelle laughed to herself at how Ben had that way of asking and telling at the same time.  As though Lisa needed prodding, Ben continued, “I believe you are essential to assuring my second goal, and that is,” he looked away from Lisa and directly at May Alice, “that it be produced, exactly, the way I saw it performed Friday night.”  He smiled at her with his broadest, most perfect, warm, and sincere smile.  He finished, with a little less intensity, “I have less interest than most executive producers with the creative side of things.  As such, I may not have as much influence on whatever director will be hired, but I will, no doubt, remind the creative side, when the time comes, that I am the Executive Producer, and it is in everyone’s best interest to listen to what the Executive Producer wants.”   Lisa was unmoved by his declarations, and May Alice could not resist taking some of the wind from his blustering sails.

“You know I own the copyright,” she reminded him.  Thanks to Lisa’s insistence, and help, May Alice had copyrighted the work, even before she, and Austin had optioned it, and she strongly urged May Alice not to let it go with the sale of the play.  Keeping it assured May Alice would always have creative control of any production of it.  If she’d hated what anyone wanted to do with her work, she could stop it at any time.  It was much easier said than done, of course, even with copyright laws on her side, and it was hardly ever invoked, but it was an assurance.

“Yes, I do,” Ben acknowledged, casually, “And, I have no doubt that you would not think twice about pulling the plug.  However, I intend to see you never have to make that call.”  She smiled, again knowing he was sincere, and there was great peace of mind knowing he understood the power of the play, as it was, and she truly wouldn’t have to worry about him presenting it differently.  Toward the end of lunch, Ben asked the question that Chantelle, herself, had most wanted to ask lately, but was too worried about the answer to actually pursue.  “So, what’s next?”  He was looking again at May Alice.  “How about you stay in New York and do this with us?”  Upon saying the word “us”, he’d briefly looked to Lisa, who he fully expected would accept his producer offer.

May Alice started to remind him they’d discussed that already, but, recalling where she had been when they’d had that discussion, she thought better of explaining it to Lisa.  Instead, while shifting uncomfortably in her chair, she said, “Oh, I don’t really see that happening.”  Chantelle was relieved, but not overly, as she didn’t feel as though May Alice said it with as much conviction as Chantelle hoped she might, which would leave Ben room to try and change her mind.  However, before any persuasion could happen, May Alice continued, “I have really enjoyed being back, but it’s just so much easier at home.” Then May Alice glanced over at Chantelle and added, “And Chantelle’s family can visit her more easily there.  There are just a lot of factors that didn’t affect me before.”

Chantelle had not been as grateful for May Alice’s words since some she’d uttered the former summer.  May Alice had asked to go out on the water one afternoon and, once there, she and Chantelle had their first real discussion about the future.  It was the first assurance each had offered the other about sticking around.  They had needed one another, and neither was too familiar with admitting that then.  Now, hearing May Alice including, not only her, but Denita, too, in the decision to return to Louisiana, she was, not only relieved, but also touched, so acutely, she didn’t notice right away that her eyes were welling up bit.  She blinked hard and hoped none of the three were watching her.  If they had been, no one said anything.  She looked away and dabbed them with a napkin while Ben professed his disappointment. 

Lisa remained, unexpectedly, quiet, but, she had been intently watching Ben and May Alice.  Chantelle decided she was sizing Ben up.  She wondered how much Lisa knew about his relationship with May Alice.  Then, she wondered if Ben had that kind of relationship with a lot of women.  She almost thought it a waste if he didn’t.  Any woman would have loved his kind of attention.  Chantelle, too, kept watching the pair, as she had in each encounter she’d had with them; how Ben did not divert his attention long from May Alice any time he was around her; and she accepted his compliments of her more easily than she did anyone else’s.  Clearly, there was some kind of comradery and intimacy between them and Chantelle thought if Ben did have a lot of other women around, it had to be different than how it was with May Alice.  She was, again, impressed by the pair and what a complicated relationship they’d cultivated.  She thought back to May Alice’s first description of it, “it was just sex,” and she compared them to her own relationship with Sugar Ledoux.  _That is just sex, s_ he thought.  Then, suddenly, she remembered, again, the feeling of disappointment she’d felt when Ben hadn’t stayed opening night.  Although May Alice had been exactly right about the reason he hadn’t, there was no excuse Chantelle would accept about why Ben had not tried to contact May Alice earlier during their stay, or following her accident the previous year.  Perhaps she was misreading their interactions; so, instead of being incensed by his incongruous behavior, she was just sad.  _Maybe it was just sex after all?_   She concluded that if these were the kinds of people May Alice had spent the last twenty years with, it was no wonder the woman had been so angry when Chantelle had first met her.  Chantelle departed the lunch, still sad at her assessment, but, happier than ever that May Alice would not be staying in New York.  

Sunday’s reviews had served to push the rest of the weeknight’s ticket sales to max, which was a boon for the play, but the pressure was off for all, but the actors, so, attending the shows had lost some of its appeal, at least for May Alice.  She hated to think she was so jaded by the sale to Ben, so, she chalked her lack of enthusiasm up, instead, to being tired.  Nevertheless, Ben had arranged a small cast party following Thursday’s closing and she could never have justified not attending. 

At the party, the liquor flowed freely, and Ben, publicly, announced he’d optioned the play and would be looking forward to seeing the actors at auditions later in the spring.  Lisa had signed on with Ben’s company earlier that day.  It was a happy time, but May Alice felt like she was outside looking in.  She’d not felt that way, even once, since she began penning the very work which served to land her there at that moment in time.  She laughed to herself at the pattern she found herself repeating, where she could create something that, ultimately, she didn’t feel a part of.  As she watched everyone around her imbibe and enjoy the night, she became even more introspective, determining that she was neither jaded, nor tired, she just had no plan for what would come next.  She had not planned one moment beyond getting the play to an audience.  All in all, just that plan had worked perfectly, _but now what_ , she wondered?  Ben provided a beautiful distraction, keeping her from answering that question.  He sidled up next to her and handed her a glass of champagne.  She took the flute from him, smiled, and set it on the table, and said, “Thank you.  My medications, remember?”

“I do indeed,” he said, “that, is sparkling cider, and I insist you toast with me.”

She didn’t fully believe him because she wasn’t sure he’d believed her the night she’d used the excuse, but, he hadn’t questioned her then, so, she picked up the glass, clinked it with his, and took a sip.  He had respected her defense; the cider was a harsh substitute for the real thing, but she was grateful he’d not tempted her sobriety.  It was late by then, most of the party guests had begun to filter out, and the noise was not so prevalent.  Although the crowd had dwindled, May Alice had lost sight of Chantelle. 

She felt the heat of Ben’s body as he leaned in close, and said in a low, serious, voice, “Now sweetheart, you need to tell me honestly that you don’t want to come back to New York.  I miss you, and I want to do this play with you.”  She was surprised to smell the alcohol on his breath; she’d never recalled that before in their many shared nights of mild intoxication.  She took another sip of her bitter cider and tried to ignore his intense gaze on her.  She felt warm and was certain her face was flushed. 

“You _are_ doing the play with me,” she said, trying to sound casual, hoping to break his oppressive stare.

“I want you . . . here, in New York,” he said, not budging.

_Why,_ she wondered.  It was no longer necessary for her to be there, and she would never be convinced Ben had anything more than mild affection for her.  _What can he really mean?_  Once again, the thought of Rennie, suddenly, entered her mind.  Rennie was direct, to the point.  He never made her guess his motivations, or his meanings.   She turned her head to Ben and just stared into his eyes for a moment.  As she did, she realized, for the first time ever, she never really looked at him.  She had often looked at the whole package, of course, and it was perfect; but, to really look into him, in the eyes like that; that was new.  She saw familiarity there, a kind lover, and friend, but nothing more.  “Ben”, she said stoically, “What difference does my being here make?  The play is written, we agreed it’s just the way we want-"

“It’s what I want,” he demanded, petulantly.

She was stunned by his interruption, by his tone, it was an outright demand.  The words cut her.  Ben had always been selfish, but she’d come to think he’d become, through the years, more considerate of her than he was with others.  She’d never once been slighted, or ignored, or tossed aside by Ben, and he really had asked, and sometimes used, her advice and suggestions in his work.  _Is that how he made everyone else feel, to?_   She worried she been duped by Ben all along.  The idea caused the air leave her lungs, and she began to panic, thinking that she’d allowed Ben to deceive her.  She’d been so careful regarding him, never becoming too attached, always just enjoying the benefits of their friendship; to believe, right then, that there was not even casual friendship, became all too upsetting. She looked around, hopeful that Chantelle would reappear, and give her an excuse to stop feeling that uncustomary pain.  With no respite in sight, she became angry and pushed back, “But, it’s not what _I_ want,” she retorted, in an equally steeled voice, and with a stare that she hoped would finally break his focus.

“I think it is,” he said, unphased.  He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, his words and manner still stinging her. 

“Well it’s not,” she quietly insisted, trying to keep hold of her fleeting confidence by denying him.  Then, like a gift, Chantelle appeared at the table.  She immediately knew, from May Alice’s expression, that something had occurred, but before she could ask, May Alice said, “Chantelle, I’d like to leave now.”  

“Of course,” Chantelle said, moving behind her to help her with the chair.  Uncharacteristically, Ben did not move to help, he barely even looked over at Chantelle.  He sat, sipping the last of his champagne. 

“Good night Chantelle, Good Night May Alice,” he eventually said, casually, as they turned away from the table.  Neither answered.

As they waited for the arrival of the car, in the foyer of the small restaurant Ben had procured for the party, Chantelle asked what happened.  May Alice shook her head, and said, “Reality, happened.”  Chantelle gave her time, but she would not be able to let that answer lie.

Fortunately, the car service arrived in little time and they were gone before Ben would have followed them out.  When they’d returned to the suite that evening, as Chantelle helped remove May Alice’s coat, May Alice said, “I need your help with something.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Chantelle replied.  She expected May Alice to head toward her bedroom, but instead, she moved into the living area.  “Do you want coffee or something?” Chantelle asked, trying to gauge just what kind of help she’d be providing.

“No, I don’t think so.  Thank you.”  Chantelle had followed her into the room and sat on the couch facing her as May Alice continued, “I want to go home, and I haven’t made a single arrangement for that.” 

Chantelle had been expecting something more serious.  This was not a big request.  It wasn’t anything that would even be an issue.  Chantelle thought about what the deeper meaning might be.  “I know,” she lied.  She hadn’t been certain, at all, that May Alice wanted to go home.  “So, we’ll go home; it’s not a big deal.  We’ll call the airline, it’s simple.”  May Alice didn’t respond but she looked pensive; clearly, there was more on her mind.  Chantelle decided to press a bit. “Does this have something to do with Ben?” she asked.

May Alice didn’t answer right off, but was, noticeably, fashioning an answer.  She did not meet Chantelle’s gaze when she answered, “Somewhat, but no.  I just . . .I,” she was struggling but then she looked up at Chantelle and said, “I just want to go home.”

“Okay,” was all Chantelle could say.  She could see some pain in May Alice’s face and she knew it had to do with Ben.  She tried to lighten the mood by adding, “But can we not go tonight?  I’m really tired and I’d like just one more night of . . . this.” She held her hands out to her sides, indicating the suite.

May Alice smiled but didn’t share the levity; she responded, absently, “Of course. I didn’t mean tonight.”

Chantelle helped May Alice undress and helped her into bed, for the first time, in weeks.  She suspected that, maybe, fatigue was adding to May Alice’s mood, and sleep would be good.  She commented that May Alice she should sleep like baby that night, knowing her job was done.  May Alice only nodded, and settled into the bed.  Chantelle had not even finished hanging up May Alice’s suit before May Alice was soundly asleep. 

Chantelle spent a few minutes in her own bed pondering what could have happened between May Alice and Ben that night.  _Did he want to change her play, after all?  No, she would have told me that.  Did he want to spend the night with her again?_   She had been wondering about that ever since the first night they’d spent together.  _Or, maybe she wanted to spend the night with him and he said no?_ The latter thought made her angry at him all over again.  She’d barely quit being angry at him for her belief that he’d never contacted May Alice after she’d become paralyzed, and when he left opening night early without even seeing her, and now, for whatever, she was sure, he’d done that night.  She decided she really should get the whole story one of these days, instead of randomly speculating; but, for that night, she was okay with being angry because she never wanted to see her friend’s face looking so unhappy again.  She’d seen plenty of that in their first months together and was pleased that it happened more infrequently, until that night.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

It would not be until the flight home, several days later, that Chantelle would learn the basics of Ben and May Alice’s story.  Not only, what had occurred at the party, but also, how Ben had arrived at the Plaza suite one morning after the cast party, and sealed his fate with May Alice.  That one morning, Chantelle had stepped out to retrieve the airline tickets she’d reserved, a day prior, when May Alice heard a soft knock on the suite door.  She made her way to it, expecting it to be some staff member courteously seeking feedback on her extended stay.  She was taken aback when it was Ben standing in the hallway.  He had not phoned, as he customarily would have, to alert them of his presence.  He smiled, but not in his usual manner.  He was far more subdued, and dressed casually, for him, even though it was a Saturday.  He wore smart wool slacks with a white oxford underneath a powder blue sweater that served to enhance the beauty of his eyes.  _Impeccable as usual_ , May Alice thought wistfully; but she had no other reaction to his being there; she simply stared at him with the door open.  Again, uncharacteristically for him, he did not sweep in through it.  He stood in front of her, smiling, not saying anything, but she did notice him shifting a bit, from foot to foot.  He was nervous.  She let him be, she had nothing to offer him. 

Finally, Ben spoke, “It occurs to me that my usual brand of charming selfishness, may have come across as a bit insensitive the other evening.” 

May Alice remained indifferent although she was searching her memory, uncertain if she’d ever heard Ben, almost, apologize for anything.  She truly had not thought he would think his behavior was anything but normal that night.  She had never minded his candid honesty before, but she had never been that vulnerable before.  She thought he’d really understood her vulnerability when they’d had sex two weeks earlier, but when he discounted her needs, so aloofly, at the party, the one person she’d so completely trusted herself with had let her down.  Figuring she was, as much, to blame, but unable to easily forget how he’d made her feel, she had no words for him.  She smiled, a pitiful smile, remembering that, had she still been drinking, she’d have let his comment, that night, pass without notice, and probably ended right back up in his bed.  The facts were, she couldn’t enjoy casual sex anymore, she couldn’t drink anymore, and now, she was tied to him professionally, in a way she’d never been before.  Finally, she managed to say to him, with a hint of sadness, she tried to disguise, “Things aren’t the same Ben.”  She quickly added, “Not for me”, feeling he might, in his selfishness, disagree.  He surprised her by not responding.  He moved from the hallway, closer to the door, and placed his back against the wall beside her, but said nothing.  She thought he might actually be listening, and comprehending what she needed him to know.  “I can’t do the things I’ve always done.”

After a few seconds, Ben found his voice.  He stepped away from the wall and bent down and took her hand.  “I understand.  I didn’t want to, but I do.  And, it only changes . . .” he paused and smiled, and maybe even blushed a little, “some things.  I still adore you.  I truly do miss you. _You_ ,” he emphasized that last word, then finished, “Your intelligence, your fearlessness.  You never cease to surprise me.  None of that has changed, May Alice.”

She was moved.  He was more genuine in that moment than she’d ever seen him be.  She wanted, and needed, to believe him.  “You are quite an enigma, Ben.  Thank you,” she responded softly.  She knew she had not been wrong about him, and it made her happy, and she felt her confidence return.  “So?” she offered, “Friends? Without benefits?”

He pursed his lips into a small frown and nodded his head, “Partners,” he agreed, and he rose to his feet, but still held her hand.  “And, you are welcome here any time.  You just say the word and I will roll out every red carpet in town for you.”

Of course, May Alice didn’t recap every bit of the encounter to Chantelle, that day on the plane, only the fact that he did apologize, and he, finally, understood, and supported her decision to return to Louisiana.  May Alice relayed to Chantelle also that, although, ultimately, Ben did abandon her after the accident, he probably had stopped in to see her.  He wouldn’t have lied about that, she was certain.  She explained to Chantelle that she’d never blamed him, nor felt neglected, because their relationship had never lent itself to such ties.  Until she’d returned to New York and spent time with Ben again, even, she hadn’t understood the depth of their affection.  She’d genuinely believed they were simply friends who had sex occasionally.  She was intrigued to learn, in those past weeks, that she was as right, as she was wrong, about that. 


	19. 19

**Chapter 19**

“Good morning, Mr. Boudreaux,” the fresh-faced teenaged girl greeted him.

“Mornin’ Tracy,” Rennie answered, as he shuffled all five kids into the entrance of the library. 

Tracy moved from the front desk and collected the younger Boudreaux kids and whisked them off to the Saturday morning reading circle for preschooler’s.  Rennie took Acadia and Sabine and set them up, at what had become a customary table, for their studying.  In the weeks since Arlene had left, and the girls had started back in school, Rennie found a lot of help with the staff at the Lafayette Public Library.  From high school student interns, to the local volunteers who sponsored the preschoolers’ reading group, Rennie was able to have help getting Acadia up to speed in her classes while the other girls continued their love affair with reading.

By February the family had a routine in which they’d rise on Saturday’s, get breakfast at the town diner, and then head to the Library for a few hours.  Sometimes Rennie would stay, but often he was able to get in some additional work, doing odd jobs for folks in town, while the kids were entertained.  By then, although Acadia was well up to speed with school, she, like the other kids, loved reading and the library was a nice break from being home all week. 

The first few weeks he’d tried the resource, Rennie was not comfortable leaving the kids alone with the library staff.  While the tutors helped Acadia, and with the other kids involved in their activities, he found he had little interest in the literature available to him.  After a couple of attempts at engaging Rennie with something he’d like, Tracy, the intern, spent one day just talking to the man.  It was not easy; they had little in common, until, one day, when Rennie mentioned that a friend of his had written a play.  Tracy’s eyes lit up, knowing exactly who Rennie’s must be.  For that one day, the two had something to talk about.  They discussed how they each knew May Alice, and Rennie teased her for helping May Alice with her research by saying he would blame Tracy if May Alice never returned to Lafayette.  In the Saturday’s that followed, although Rennie stayed around less, Tracy would, at least, make time to ask if he’d heard from the ladies in New York, and Tracy would report how she’d not seen anything about May Alice in the magazines.  Tracy, being every bit a teenager, would check out the weekly gossip magazines related to the soaps.  She would look for any mention of May Alice in them. 

One Saturday in mid-February, Rennie was happy to share with Tracy that he had word from New York.  He explained how Chantelle had written him, and said that the play seemed to be going well, and that the opening night had been scheduled for March 13th.  After that, they were back to exchanging news of no news, until March 13th.  That day, when the Boudreaux’s entered the library, Tracy greeted them with the usual routine, taking Jaxon and Elizabeth to their reading circle, but, before she took them, she told Rennie to be sure to stay a moment; she had news about May Alice and the play. 

When Rennie had the older girls set up at their table, he returned to the front desk and met Tracy.  She was more excited, that day, than she had been the day she found out she and Rennie had May Alice in common.  She pulled out, from under the desk, the latest copy of Soap Opera Digest which she explained, she’d bought herself at the store since the library got things a week late.  She opened the page, she’d already bookmarked with a paperclip, for Rennie and showed him a photograph of May Alice.  “Doesn’t she look just amazing?”  Tracy asked, rhetorically, then continued excitedly, “She’s so pretty, and look at that man with her!  He’s gorgeous,” she gushed.  Rennie was stunned.  Indeed, May Alice looked beautiful; he’d always thought she was beautiful, but, he’d never seen her like that.  He’d never seen her TV show, nor otherwise, followed her career.  Seeing her there, in full color, on the small page of a magazine, he realized he almost didn’t recognize that stunning woman.  For sure, he didn’t recognize the equally stunning man she was cozied up to.  Tracy offered the context, “It says he’s a producer of some kind; famous, and, they were spotted having an intimate dinner at . . .” Rennie didn’t hear anything after intimate because, undeniably, there was something so intimate about the position of the man’s body next to May Alice’s, that Rennie felt like he was intruding just seeing the photo.  It appeared to him that neither, the man, nor May Alice, were even aware of the photograph being taken.  Clearly, Chantelle had left, at least, one thing out of her letter.  He was befuddled and suddenly felt like he needed air.  He looked at Tracy who was saying something about the New York Times.  He set the magazine down, and tried to focus on her, as she was reminding him, it would be another week before the Times arrived in the library and they could see the reviews about the play.  He mustered a smile for the eager intern, and thanked her for showing him the magazine.  He, then, exited the library abruptly, even though he’d not lined up any work that Saturday.

He made his way into the rose garden attached to the library and sat on a bench, realizing he could not stop thinking about the photograph.  He was angry; angry at May Alice, and then, immediately, he was ashamed of that.  _Ya got no right to be angry with her._   If that photo hadn’t, he reminded himself, he was nothing to her.  He reminded himself, he was the married man, for all intents and purposes; at the moment, anyway.  He reminded himself, she had asked him if he’d ever leave Arlene, and he had said no.  He stopped himself, _Ya got no right to be angry at anyone, other’n yourself._ He admitted that was the truth; he was angry at himself.  He had buried that anger, so deeply, and for so long, he was mortified to learn that one little photograph, of his friend and some random stranger, could rip it out of him so easily.  He had been more startled by that revelation than he had been by his wife’s leaving him.  That was a curious observance, he realized.  His thoughts started to flow, and he began allowing many thoughts that he’d refused to allow before because they were selfish; something he had never been, and never wanted to be.  Nevertheless, he admitted that, for too many years, he put everyone above himself.  It was what sons, brothers, husbands and fathers did, yet, only he seemed to have been left behind by having done so.  He had allowed Arlene to raise his kids in a way that eliminated his influence, and, even, his time with them.  He had allowed her to endanger Acadia, and then he’d allowed her to leave.  The one pleasure he’d allowed himself in many years, was the company of May Alice, and he’d allowed her to leave too.  Ever the pragmatist, Rennie refused to revel in the self-pity for too long.  He attempted to collect his anger, and his thoughts, and find a path forward.  He needed to seriously consider what he wanted in this life, and, needed to do it soon, before his kids decided they should leave him too.  He calmed, some, at the thought of his kids.  Those sweet children who, for the past few months, had their lives turned inside out and, yet, had been amazing.  They didn’t break, they didn’t quit, and they never gave up on Rennie, or themselves.  It was remarkable, and he realized he loved them so deeply he ached at the thought.  That was more powerful to him than any other emotion, or thought, he’d experienced that day.  It focused him, and he knew, then, that they were the key to his happiness.  He had been on the right path with them, these past months, and now, rather than feeling it a hardship, he realized, it was a gift.  By the time he left that rose garden he felt empowered.  He retrieved his children, and he felt happier than he had since . . . a few days after Christmas.

Once he had the kids in for the evening, he gathered them all into the living room and said that he didn’t think “Maw” would be coming back to live with them.  He wanted them to realize they had been doing all right together, and they were going to be okay without her, and he wanted them to understand, above all else, that he was not going anywhere.  He still believed that Arlene would, one day, come to realize what she’d left behind, and when she did, it was not his wish to keep any mother from her child, but, he knew that day, he did not feel the same for her, and she would not return to his home as his wife.  The kids, for the most part, seemed to understand, but had little reaction.  Perhaps they’d already come to that conclusion, or maybe, it was still too big a concept for them to fathom.  Regardless, Rennie was happy that, for the moment, it appeared the information would not derail the balance they’d struck and maintained without Arlene.  As he lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to settle over him, he revisited the image of May Alice and her mystery man, but rather than thoughts of anger or hurt, he fell asleep remembering how lovely she looked the last time he had seen her in person . . . a few days after Christmas.


	20. 20

**Chapter 20**

May Alice and Chantelle landed at Lafayette Regional Airport late Monday evening.  They loaded into the car and arrived home just before 11 p.m.  They were both exhausted, and a little sad, at seeing the old house, after having spent nearly eight weeks in the luxury of the Plaza Hotel.  Gone were the heavenly beds the women had grown so accustomed to.  Gone was the spacious, accessible bathroom May Alice would never even have dreamed of before she had the cause to experience such a thing.  If pressed, she’d even confess she’d miss the, once offensive, assistance bar over the bed.  As she lay back on her lackluster pillow, she wondered if the old ceiling in the house would even support such a thing. 

Chantelle was disappointed too.  As she lay back on her own bed, she realized how difficult things had been for her, and May Alice, before the spoils of The Plaza, and how, tomorrow, they’d be that difficult again.  May Alice had done well with her strength training, so, some things would be a little easier, however, their meager amenities were going to be all the more inadequate now.  She fell asleep worrying about what the days ahead would be like for May Alice.

Early Monday morning Rennie was rudely awakened from a pleasant and mystifying dream by the sounds of children fighting somewhere in the house.  He could tell it was Sabine and Missy.  He jumped up after a few moments orienting himself to the time of morning, and to who was arguing, and why.  He threw on a t-shirt to cover his customary boxers and staggered down the hall toward the front bathroom.  He found a mass of hair pulling and yelling, and by the looks of it, he’d arrived just in time.  The two girls were so embattled they didn’t even notice his arrival at the door.  A shrill whistle caught them off guard long enough to break grips on whoever’s scalp was being assaulted.  Both girls looked at their disheveled father and the intense look on his face.  Immediately both began detailing what the other had done to cause his disdain.  “Enough!” he shouted.  Again, the two stopped for a moment.  “Girls, I can’t even begin to imagine what’s gone so wrong already this morning,’ that you have enough fire in you to burn down this house, but whatever it is – you ain’t gonna carry it on to your brother ‘n sisters,” he said firmly.  Although the battle, and subsequent billowing by their father, had already awakened the other three, none had ventured out of their beds.  Rennie surmised, from the appearance between the two girls, that Missy was on the losing side.  Her thick, brunette hair had a brush handle dangling from a large tangle that engulfing the buried bristles.  He ordered Sabine to get out of the bathroom and get with Acadia and help with the other kids.  She moved without question.  He looked down at Missy whose bright blue eyes were now welling with tears. 

“I just wanted to curl my hair today,” she said helplessly looking up at her dad.  He reached for the rat’s nest and gingerly began trying to separate the mass of hair from the bristles of the brush.  After only a few minutes it was clear, what he was trying, was useless. The brush would just not come loose.  He told Missy to go and get dressed, and he assured he would figure something out.  He led her down to her room, then continued on to his own room to get himself dressed.  He had no idea a brush could even get stuck in hair, and even less an idea what to do about it. 

While dressing, Rennie was yelling out for a status report from Acadia.  She answered, and assured her father she had Jaxon and Elizabeth under control but she didn’t know where Sabine was.  They both called to the girl but she did not answer.  Rennie had not seen her in the girls’ room when he’d followed Missy from the bathroom, and assumed she’d be helping with Jaxon as he’d ordered. 

He finished dressing, brushed his teeth and dragged a comb though his hair which, he curiously stopped in that chaotic moment to realize, had grown a bit shaggy.  He saw remnants of his father in his mirror and quickly noted that he’d need to get a cut as soon as possible.  He then realized he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had Arlene cut it.  _Arlene . . ._ the thought came so easily, and just as easily he was finally, angry with her.  He knew she’d not been perfect, he didn’t even deserve perfect, but she’d never been this selfish.  _How could she_ . . . He didn’t allow himself to continue down that path that morning.  No good could come of it, and the day was already off to a bad start.  He dismissed all thoughts and got back to the task of finding Sabine.  He made his way to the kitchen where Acadia was setting out bowls of cereal.  Jaxon and Elizabeth were seated, and Missy came up behind him, dressed, but very unhappy with the hairbrush still dangling from the right side of her head.  As she entered, Jaxon laughed and pointed at the poor girl before Rennie could stop him.  Missy just stood there, once again, with tears welling in her already reddened eyes.

Acadia shut him down with a threat, “I’ll curl your hair if you say one more thing, Jaxon Boudreaux.”  She immediately moved to her younger sister to see if she could extract any of the hair from the brush.  “Oh,” she said, trying to sound casual, in effort to calm the girl, “you really got it stuck in there, huh?”  The assistance was as futile as Rennie’s attempt, but Missy was happy someone was trying to get her out of the mess.

Rennie left the kids to hunt for Sabine.  He opened the back door and checked around the yard even knowing Sabine had an aversion to the natural denseness of the trees and shrubs native to so much of Louisiana.  He made his way around to the front yard and found the girl on the porch steps.  She was dressed and was holding one of her stuffed animals.  She looked at him but didn’t say anything.  He moved to sit next to her and sat in silence for a moment.  “You should get some breakfast,” he suggested, “we’ll have to figure out what to do with Missy’s hair on the way to school.” 

Sabine stopped rocking the stuffed bear and looked up at him.  “I told her not to use that stupid brush. She’s just trying to copy Savannah Rollins who’s a stuck-up snot anyway.”  Rennie had to stop himself from laughing at the term, and Sabine’s matter-of-fact tone.  Clearly she had no sympathy for her sister’s dilemma. 

The two made their way back into the house and were met with sounds of new chaos.  Apparently, Elizabeth, mesmerized by the tangle in Missy’s hair, had missed properly gripping her spoon and set her little hand down on the lip of her cereal bowl, tipping it, causing its entire contents to spill into her lap.  Jaxon found that every bit as funny Missy’s hair, and naturally, laughed out loud, and pointed at his baby sister.  Acadia, who had not even dressed herself yet, blurted out, “Damn it, Lizzie!” which shocked everyone, and caused Elizabeth to start crying.  Missy, still smarting from being laughed at, sympathized with the little girl’s pain, and started crying herself, again.  Rennie rushed to the table and began wiping up the mess and directed Acadia to go get herself ready. 

He told Jaxon, “That’s enough outta you, young man,” and directed him to finish his own cereal.  He wasn’t exactly sure why Missy was crying, so he simply asked her.  She was caught off guard and realized she didn’t have an answer; but she was curious enough about it to stop crying and ponder it.  Rennie scooped up Elizabeth and assured her the spill was not so bad.  It was bad, however, because he quickly realized, they’d forgotten to put the load of clean clothes from the washer into the dryer the night before, leaving the girl with very few options that morning.  The one outfit she liked, that fit, and was clean, she’d just spilled milk and cereal all over.  With Sabine’s help, they were able to get her re-dressed in an acceptable outfit. 

Lunches, it was decided, would be abandoned, and everyone would get lunch money instead, but upon checking his wallet, Rennie realized he only had twenty dollar bills.  He gave one to Acadia to provide for the girls.  This caused Missy to panic, and she started to cry again, declaring she could not go to school ‘with this’, and she picked up the matted mess, for effect.  Rennie assured her they would take care of it before she went into school.  Sabine then chimed in that, “she should have to go to school like that, it was her own stupid fault.”  Jaxon, not wanting to be left out decided he didn’t want to go to school if Missy didn’t have to.  Acadia, having had her fill of the morning, stormed out of the house and waited in the truck for the next disaster, which would be her having forgotten all of her books and homework.  Rennie finally rounded up each of the kids, ignoring everyone’s complaints, and rustled them out the door and into the truck. 

On the drive to the middle school, Acadia graciously suggested Rennie take Missy to the hair salon.  She directed him to ask for Tracy’s Mom, “You know, Tracy,” she said, “from the library?  Well, her mom works at the salon over by the train station.”  Rennie was impressed that Acadia knew this about Tracy, as he’d never recalled Tracy speaking of her family.  Rennie agreed, and thanked Acadia for the suggestion, both because he knew how overburdened the girl was with her siblings, and because he truly had no idea what to do for Missy.  When he arrived at the mid-school he let Acadia and Sabine out of the truck and told them if they had any issues with being late to have the school call him that evening.   He then drove on to the daycare where he arranged for lunch to be provided for Elizabeth and Jaxon.

Once back in the truck, Rennie drove Missy, in silence, to the salon Acadia had mentioned.  He hoped they would be open that early but feared, the way the morning had gone, that the place had probably burned down overnight.  In fact, it had not burned down, but it might as well have because it was Monday, so the salon was closed.  He felt Missy’s panic brewing, and he knew if she cried one more time this morning, he might start too, and they might never stop.  In his own panic, he looked at the girl, and her pained face, and said quickly, “Don’t worry, I have another idea.”  He didn’t, but if all else failed, as it might, he would find Tracy, and then find her mother.  He took off toward the high school but along the way, he passed by a barber shop.  He knew the barber because he’d helped install the barber pole there two years before.  He made a U-turn and found a spot to park in front of the shop.  “Wait right here, I have to see a man about something.” He wasn’t sure if the place was open, and he didn’t know if a barber could even help, so, there was no sense in bringing up the subject to Missy, of her possibly seeing a man about helping with her hair.   Rennie approached the door and was happy to see it was, at least, open.  He entered and was greeted immediately by the barber, Ricardo Esposito. 

“Well, good morning!  Rennie, isn’t it?”  The man asked. 

“Yes sir,” Rennie answered removing his hat to meet Ricardo with a handshake, “It’s been awhile.”  

The barber, having seen Rennie’s hair responded immediately, “Yes, yes it sure has.  Come on, I’ll fix you right up,” and he motioned Rennie to an empty chair in the shop. 

“Oh, uh . . .” Rennie chuckled, a little embarrassed, “actually I was hoping you could help me with another matter.”  He explained the dilemma, and although Ricardo was sure he could help, Rennie didn’t know how Missy would react to being in a men’s salon.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Rennie, I will help the senorita, I know just the thing.  I’ll be right back.” Ricardo exited a door in the back of the salon and returned only a moment later with a lovely young woman in tow.  “This is my niece, Maritza.  She works here too.  Perhaps the little Boudreaux will be more comfortable with her, yes?” 

“Uh, yes,” Rennie said, elated that something might finally be working in their favor that morning. 

Rennie returned to the truck and explained he found a woman who could help.  Still, apprehensive about what the girl would think of being in a barber shop, he’d decided they had no other option.  He couldn’t let her hair stay tangled all day while he waited for the women’s hair salon to open the next day.  He led Missy out of the truck and into the shop where Maritza greeted her, and her rats nest, with a very casual, “Oh, the round brush.  I’ve seen this before,” she fibbed.  It was just the right thing to say. Missy relaxed a bit, and followed the woman to the chair, that was equipped with a booster seat.  Maritza immediately began distracting the girl with questions about her school, and why she wanted to curl such lovely hair in the first place.

As soon as Missy was situated, Ricardo suggested to Rennie he sit for a cut while they waited.  Missy’s eyes grew wide when she realized her dad was getting his hair cut right next to her.  Maritza noticed the look and explained that men always came in there to get haircuts and, sometimes, shaves.  When she told Missy that she mostly cut men’s hair, and not women’s, Missy was impressed.  She’d had no idea such places existed.  Forty minutes later, the brush was free, and Rennie’s hair was trimmed short, and his face had been shaved smooth.  Maritza had to cut some of the tangle from Missy’s hair, with the end result being a slight taper from her bangs down the sides of her face to blend into the back length.  She told Missy, “I think you will like this.  You’re not a baby anymore, Missy.  You need a young ladies’ haircut,” she tempted.  When she showed the girl the final result Missy smiled bigger than Rennie had seen her do in months. 

“Wow,” he said to his daughter, “you look real pretty, sweetheart,” he said honestly. 

Following the successful trip to the barber shop, Missy was eager to return to school.  Remembering Sabine’s claim, Rennie hoped the newly styled, but still straight, hair would live up to Savannah-what’s-her- name’s standards, and they’d avoid similar incidents in the future.  When they arrived at the school, Missy happily exited the truck, and said no, when Rennie offered to walk her in to claim responsibility for her being late.  He was proud of her.  He was proud of all of them but he realized he was finding out things about them he should have known already.  As he reflected on that, he became overwhelmed with the hardships of the last several months, and their culmination with that mornings series of events.  He’d known for weeks that he was in over his head.  Even with the help of the neighbors, the school, and even the kids themselves, trying to help each other, he didn’t know how to be both Mom and Dad for each of them.  He never felt he had enough time to be with them, to learn who they were, what they wanted and what they needed.  He was certain his own father had known Rennie better, at every age, than Rennie knew himself.  _How did he do it?_   As quickly as he wondered it, he answered it.   _He didn’t allow himself to be pushed out._  He thought more about that as he drove away; thought about how his parents were partners, completely, in everything they did, his mother was as present as his father, and he’d taken that for granted in his own marriage, not having any clue, until Arlene was gone, how much raising kids worked better with a partner.  Still, he and Arlene had not been partners, not in a long while, and he thought, maybe, she never was a partner.  She’d needed him once, and he’d liked being needed.  It was only just now becoming apparent that, maybe, they shouldn’t have needed to be together, that maybe, it was better to want to be together.  Maybe that was that the key to partnerships, he wondered.  _Knowing you could both stand alone, but choosing to stand together?_   That sure sounded better to him than this; being alone, not missing his partner, and feeling like maybe he never really had one.

He’d been driving for fifteen minutes before he realized he didn’t have anywhere to go that day, and realizing that he’d driven to May Alice’s house.  He stopped short of the long driveway, saddened to know she was still not home.  It was then he recalled part of the dream he’d been awakened from that morning.  It had something to do with the driveway before him; May Alice’s driveway.  _Was it winter time, perhaps?_   He recalled the dogwood trees lining the drive, and something delicate and white blowing in the wind, like snow, he thought; odd since it rarely snowed in Louisiana.  He felt happy in the dream, he knew, as though he were arriving for some festive occasion. _A party? Was it someone’s birthday?_  Try as he might, he could recall no more of the dream, aside from how it made him feel inside, and it was far from what he was seeing, and feeling right then; the trees were bare, there was no majestic snow falling, and he felt as empty as the house at the far end of the drive.

Rennie’s week had settled down some by Friday.  Monday’s rough start had provided a diversion in his family’s precarious routine, but at the end of that trying day, when all the Boudreaux children had returned home and began to talk about their day, Rennie was struck how the morning’s incident was barely a memory to them by the evening.  Even with the kids all admiring Missy’s new haircut, it was merely a topic, one of several that cropped up over dinner’s chatting.  Rennie was proud to witness the resiliency of his kids.  For the first time, maybe ever, he was able to see something of himself in them, and with most things those days, it made him both happy and sad.  That night, he decided they would survive whatever awaited them, with or without their mother’s presence, and he would be the one to lead them through.  That very conclusion had provided one more challenge.

Thursday morning, Rennie contacted Arlene’s probation officer, a middle aged woman named Adriana Larson.  He indicated his need to gain some insight into what Arlene’s plans were going to be.  Ms. Larson explained to Rennie that Arlene was no longer staying with her family, as she had been originally.  He was stunned to learn that, back in February, Arlene had contacted Larson requesting a move.  Arlene, it seemed, had been taken under wing by, no other than, the good Deacon Leon and his wife.  It had taken Rennie a good minute to process that most unexpected information.  He hadn’t even known for certain, when he was in Baton Rouge last year, if the deacon had ever spoken to Arlene.  Now she was living with him and his wife?  Once he was able to rejoin the discussion with Larson, she was explaining that her visits all indicated Arlene was in a satisfactory, and more positive environment, and was doing well.  They’d arranged for Arlene to meet with Rennie in Larson’s office that Saturday. 

Saturday morning, he loaded the kids up for the weekly trip to the library.  Tracy met them that day, as expected, and told Rennie to be sure and stay a moment, she wanted to share something with him.  Her eagerness, he knew, would likely have something to do with May Alice and her play, and hopefully, he thought, not anything more about the man in the photograph, who, he was surprised to find, still bothered him.  While he awaited Tracy’s return to the front desk, he contemplated the drive he would be making soon after, to Baton Rouge.  He’d arranged for Mrs. Flowers to pick the kids up at noon from the library and stay with them until he returned later in the day.

When Tracy returned to the front desk, Rennie explained his arrangement that Mrs. Flowers would pick up his children that day, and Tracy agreed to help them out when the time came.  Once that was settled, Tracy pulled up various clippings from some New York newspapers that she’d been saving.  They were reviews of the play.  Rennie was happy to see a lack of photographs among them.  Tracy excitedly offered Cliff’s Notes versions of the write-ups, telling him how something had happened to one of the actors from the first night, because the following night, the play had changed a lot, and the critics didn’t seem to like that version as much.  “Don’t you wonder what could have happened?!”  Not waiting for his answer, which wouldn’t come anyway, she went on to explain that one of the clippings speculated that regardless, some “big time producer” was already talking about buying.  “I think his name is somewhere in these,” Tracy said, as she flipped through the strips of newsprint.  “Isn’t it amazing?  I couldn’t wait for you to get here!  It sounds like Miss Culhane is going to make it big again in New York!” 

Rennie politely perused some of the words, on some of the clippings, and decided Tracy would have read them accurately, and while he was happy for his friend’s success, the sadness at the thought he’d lose her again was creeping across him like the morning fogs on his beloved bayou.  Like that first time they’d had news of New York, and he had first seen the photograph of May Alice and her unknown dinner companion, Rennie felt he needed air, and quickly made an escape from the clippings, the library, and the happy intern. 

He barely remembered having gotten into the truck and on to Highway 10.  His mind had been a jumble of images and thoughts and speculations about anything, and everything, having to do with May Alice.  He was sad, he was lonesome, he was angry.  He indulged himself in momentary pity until, another thought, one completely foreign to the context, struck him and dragged him out of that uncustomary emotion. _Arlene;_ he needed to be focusing on his wife, he would be facing her for the first time since she abandoned him over two months ago.  He would arrive in Baton Rouge in about forty minutes and he couldn’t remember what he had been practicing all week to tell her.  His memories wandered back to the day he’d found her note on their bed.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  Slowly, he recalled the many things that happened, the really good, and the very bad, and everything in between.  By the time he crossed the Mississippi River into Baton Rouge, he had found some peace when he, for the second time in a week, knew that he could not remain married to Arlene.  He would tell her that day he was filing for divorce.  As he arrived in the parking lot of Larson’s office, he’d also arrived at the sad realization that he was not sad about the decision.  He questioned what kind of man he must be to feel more pain over losing May Alice than losing his wife of eleven years.

Adriana Larson met Rennie in the lobby of the offices.  She explained that Arlene had arrived a few minutes before.  She offered him coffee, which he declined.  He needed to get this over with so he could begin dealing with the aftermath.  Mrs. Larson opened the door and motioned Rennie to sit in one of the two remaining chairs in the office, as Arlene was seated in a third.  He had a difficult time getting his feet to move all the way into the room, and had no understanding about why.  Regardless, he made it to a chair, and made eye contact with his wife as he sat.  He was struck to see she actually looked younger than he’d remembered.  She, too, was apprehensive, not knowing at all what Rennie was thinking after all this time, and fearing he had every right to be awful.  She was relieved when all he did say was, “Hello, Arlene.”

“Hello, Rennie.  I’m glad you called to meet.” 

Larson took the lead in steering the conversation from there.  She’d already explained to Arlene, earlier in the week, the reason Rennie wanted to meet so she started there.  “Arlene, Rennie has expressed a need to understand what you might be thinking about moving forward with your family.”  Arlene started to apologize but Larson quickly stopped her.  “Sorrows are nice, but are not really going to be productive here, wouldn’t you agree, Rennie?”  Rennie nodded, and was grateful for that.  He didn’t want to seem rude, and he truly didn’t want her apologies. 

Arlene started again, “I have left my family’s church,” she said, looking at Rennie, needing him to believe her.  “It’s very hard; it’s what I know and it’s what I was comfortable with until . . .,” she dropped her head, and her voice, and said, “until Acadia.”  After a moment she continued, with regained composure, “When I returned here, I immersed myself in prayer with the elders.  They were kind, but I knew they hadn’t forgiven me for returning Acadia to the hospital.  Their praying over me caused me to have horrible nightmares; I would wake up thinking they were drowning me, holding me under water, convinced I should die.  I’m sure they meant well, but where I had once found comfort in their presence, all I felt after was fear.  I thought about coming home, Rennie, I really did but I just couldn’t face you, the kids,” again she trailed off before finishing with “Acadia.”  Rennie was unmoved and said nothing as Arlene continued, “After the Sunday service that first week, I needed to get away.  I started walking down a trail behind my brother’s house and I kept walking, well into the evening, and when I finally tired, I found I was resting on a bench outside of St. Joseph’s Cathedral.  Deacon Leon was heading in to give the evening mass and recognized me.  He invited me in and, well, I just never left.”  She continued on about how the Deacon and his wife, Alicia, housed her in their spare room, and she cooked and cleaned for them, in exchange.  Sometimes she would go with them to the cathedral and she would sit and admire the magnificence of the structure.  Soon, however, she explained, she found herself repeating the prayers in the Missal and singing the hymns during mass.  She found that in the repetition of the Catholic rituals, her mind could rest and finally be at peace.  When she opened up to the Deacon about this, he offered that perhaps God was speaking through her, not to her, as she had been waiting for.  “I don’t know how we strayed so far from our path, but I see now that we did.”   Rennie understood the we, she referred to, was her family and their religion.  He nodded, not fully understanding her journey, but hopeful that she could see the oppression she was perpetuating on their family.  When Arlene spoke next, she reached for Rennie’s hand and looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t know when I can return to you and the kids.”  Her eyes filled with tears then, and she continued, “I love them but they deserve a mother who knows how to do right by them.  Right now, that’s just not me.”  Rennie held her hand but was again, unmoved.  He could not understand her choosing, again, religion over her own children. 

“I am filing for divorce, Arlene,” he responded, softly.  “I’m hopeful that one day you can live your life with your god, and your children, but it’s your kids who need you now, and if you can’t be there for them, I will do it alone.”  He never broke eye contact with her, and he had tightened the grip around her hand to keep her from pulling it away in shock over what he was telling her.  “I can’t guarantee what you’ll have left, if, or when, you decide you can return; but it won’t include our marriage.”  He then let her hand go.  He stood up and thanked Ms. Larson for arranging the meeting.  He then looked one last time at Arlene and said, “Good bye.”

As he reached the door, Arlene said, “Rennie, just a second please, I have something for you.”  He was curious enough to stop.  When he turned back to face her she was standing, holding a letter out toward him.  It had his name, but was not in her writing.  He looked at her puzzled.  “It’s from the deacon; I don’t know what it says, but he asked me to give it to you, and I said I would.”  He took the letter without another word, and left the offices.

He drove back toward I-10 for a few miles then pulled off the road at a gas station and read the letter.  Deacon Leon wrote as eloquently as Rennie remembered him speaking.  Not patronizing, nor praising, nor condemning.  He told of the encouragement he felt in watching Arlene find solace in the Catholic religion.  He assured Rennie that Arlene did love the children and had every intention of returning to them one day, regardless of how things between the two of them might change with her departure.  He finished by inviting Rennie to contact him any time to talk and, stated he’d enjoyed speaking to Rennie last winter in Baton Rouge, and that he was happy Acadia had recovered so well and had a loving father to watch over her.  Rennie placed the letter back into the envelope, filled up with gas and headed back to Lafayette.  Through the journey back, he would soften a bit, and accept that things could be a lot worse.  He liked the deacon, always had, and he trusted that he had Rennie’s family’s interest at heart when he’d taken Arlene in.  He had to admit it was some hell of a thing that she ended up at his parish door. 

Once home, Rennie parked the truck and walked over to Mrs. Flowers house to retrieve the kids.  The drive home had continued to do him good.  Although the sense of apathy over the ending of his marriage had remained, it was strangely comforting.  He was sure Deacon Leon would never have encouraged Rennie to divorce Arlene, yet, rather than encouraging him to be patient, the deacon acknowledged that a change was inevitable.  To Rennie, those words read like confirmation that he was on the right path in moving forward without Arlene.  Telling the kids, however, proved to be a different matter, he quickly learned.  As he tried to find the right words to explain his decision, he became ambivalent, and found himself wishing for counsel from somewhere.  He decided the children couldn’t understand the enormity of the action anyway; all they would glean from it was that their Maw was not coming home.  They didn’t need to know, right then; that she didn’t want to come back, and that he didn’t want her back.  So, he didn’t tell them anything.  They enjoyed another evening together, trading stories of their afternoon with Mrs. Flowers, and the older girls told of the topics of the books they’d found to read that day, and Rennie was comforted by the simple routine they’d grown into.


	21. 21

**Chapter 21**

The day following their return home, May Alice awoke with an aching back.  The previous December, shortly before Christmas, Chantelle had insisted that she move off the couch in the living room and into the bedroom on the ground floor.  Chantelle understood May Alice’s desire to sleep on the antique couch; it was firmer, and sat higher, than the bed in the room, which was easier for her to get on, and off of, by herself.  Additionally, the king size bed in the small room left little room for a wheelchair to maneuver around.  Still, May Alice had grown stronger, and could, without much more effort, utilize the bed.  Chantelle believed the couch was never a permanent solution, yet six months into her tenure, it appeared less temporary than she’d hoped, so, she seized the opportunity to coax May Alice out of the living room by saying how much she’d like to put up a Christmas tree for Denita’s visit.  It was a cheap play on May Alice’s emotions, but it had worked.  They’d exchanged the bed with a smaller, daybed from one of the upstairs bedrooms, creating a little more space in the small room, but the mattress was still old, and lacked proper support.  May Alice had made due with it until they’d left in January, for New York, but now, back in it, she was again feeling the effects of the worn, thin mattress.

There had been several nights, in New York, when she lay awake, unwinding from the day, where she had contemplated ways in which she should have the old Culhane home altered to better accommodate her new lifestyle.  She was getting back to enjoying cooking, while teaching Chantelle, but like her bedroom, the small kitchen made it difficult to maneuver with her chair, and the stove and countertops were too high to reach easily.  She had thoroughly enjoyed the big tub in her suite at the Plaza, and the bed . . . _no one could forget that bed_.  Those were the few amenities she had, repeatedly, thought about those nights; but as soon as she’d begin thinking of how to go about such a large remodel, sleep would settle on her, and the thoughts were placed the back of the pile of things she should, one day, do.  The aches in her back reminded her, now, that ‘one day’ might be upon her already.

When she joined Chantelle for breakfast that morning, she learned that Chantelle, too, was having Plaza Hotel withdrawal.  They chuckled at how spoiled they’d been the past few months.  The aches were soon worked out, however, with all the activity needed to put the house back in order, that day, and the few that followed.  May Alice returned to her weight lifting routine, and they’d restocked with groceries, and even found a thick foam topper for the small mattress on the daybed that would buy her some time until she figured out what better to do with the room. 

Chantelle was happy to see that May Alice was paying more attention to the insufficiencies of the house; to her, it felt like May Alice was finally reaching some acceptance about the permanence of her injury.  New York certainly helped in many ways; not just the tangible amenities at the Plaza and at the therapy pool, but the psychological healing that her writing was providing.  The play, and it’s acceptance by her peers, of course, did wonders for her self-esteem.  Ben’s attention didn’t hurt one bit either.  The one thing May Alice didn’t seem to be paying any attention to, however, was Rennie.  Not once had she mentioned him, or rather the lack of him, in the days they’d been home.  Chantelle had been intrigued by the lack of discussion around Rennie during their stay in New York, but she’d realized at the time, that all of May Alice’s focus had, rightfully, been taken by the play and all its preparation, and aftermath, but those last few days, when he had come up, May Alice seemed to truly want to touch base with him again.  Yet, having been home for four days, and May Alice’s involvement with the play, right then, being nil, she’d still not brought him up, and Chantelle was once again, intrigued.  Finally, by that Friday she couldn’t resist bringing him up.  “I thought we’d have seen Rennie by now,” she started, as the two were finishing breakfast.  “I hope that’s not bad news,” she finished, looking directly at May Alice.

“Hard to say,” was all May Alice answered. 

“Well, aren’t you even curious?”  May Alice didn’t answer right away, but Chantelle let the silence hang because she really wanted to know what May Alice was thinking.

“I am, of course, but, you know . . . maybe he and Arlene have patched things up?  Acadia was doing fine, you said.  So . . .?”

That wasn’t nearly enough for Chantelle, so, she prodded further with another question she’d had on her mind, “Does this have anything to do with Ben?”

May Alice’s brow furrowed and her eyes widened a bit, “What?! Ben? No,” and then she laughed and said, “Whatever Ben and I were, we are no longer.”  Then she stopped and looked away, out the back window, and fell silent for a few moments.  Just as Chantelle was about to let her off the hook, May Alice said, “I don’t fit into that life anymore . . . or any other, it appears.”

She was not feeling sorry for herself, Chantelle knew.  It was confirmation, she hoped, of her earlier assessment, that May Alice was finally accepting the crappy hand she’d been dealt.  She knew Rennie cared for May Alice, regardless of his having a wife, and she thought a reminder of that might do some good.  “Well, I don’t think Rennie would agree.  I think he has always liked you being in his life, and I think he’ll be hurt that you didn’t let him know you’re back.”  She moved to pick up the dishes from the table and placed them in the sink.  She didn’t expect an answer and she didn’t get one. 

When May Alice did speak, awhile later, Chantelle received the keenest insight to May Alice she had received since meeting her.  May Alice was still looking out the window as Chantelle had finished washing the breakfast dishes and said, “You know how whole cities are built on top of landfills?” 

Sensing that May Alice was continuing the conversation from earlier, Chantelle simply said, “Yeah.”

“That’s how I built my whole life.  I worked and worked to cover up all the garbage with a beautiful new foundation.  I built a perfect, happy, exciting life on that foundation.  I had perfect friends, a successful career, a pretty great social life.  The trouble is, it still just covered up the garbage underneath.”

“So what’s wrong with that?”  Chantelle turned to face May Alice and continued, “If there were no beautiful city, the garbage would still be there, but nothing beautiful would have grown from it.”  It was a challenge; Chantelle knew from every line May Alice had written in her play, that she was examining her life in New York; that she had questioned everything about it, and now, she was concluding it was all nothing, that she was nothing.  But that was the lie, not May Alice’s life.  “You survived.  You adapted to a life, and along the way, you kicked ass and took names.  So, you hit a speed bump, who doesn’t?  But here you are.  Right back on solid ground, only smarter, and wiser, and wealthier; it’s not a bad result.”

May Alice was stunned.  Chantelle had shown her the flip side of a coin.  A perspective May Alice had truly never considered, even though it was exactly the side of the coin she’d been living on the entire past year.  Her intent in sharing the analogy with Chantelle had been to explain how, and why, she had to let Rennie go.  When she’d said to herself that Rennie was real, and Rennie was what mattered, she’d meant it.  He had become her true north, the one thing she could count on, and to keep him that, she could not allow him to be sullied by her world, built on its foundation of garbage.  She’d once reveled in her ability to tempt the wandering eyes of men, even though she rarely wanted those men for herself.  She’d convinced herself that Rennie’s affection for her was simply, that wandering eye, that appeal of the unknown, or maybe the forbidden.  Even if she were wrong about him, she still believed she had nothing to offer him; he would not leave his wife, she knew.  So, she concluded, her own presence in his life was nothing more than a distraction, and she didn’t want to be that anymore.  “Well, I am definitely wealthier,” she finally responded.  “If I am smarter or wiser, it’s simply because I’ve sobered up enough to accept I have nothing that would benefit a man like Rennie.  I suppose he probably figured that out too, in these months.”

Chantelle was saddened by the matter-of-fact tone of that declaration.  Where she’d believed that New York had done wonders for May Alice’s self-esteem, this revelation was very reminiscent of the May Alice she’d first met.  It was disheartening, but she had wondered if there might be a bit of a let-down period, while May Alice readjusted to life in Lafayette, after her success in New York.  And Rennie hadn’t shown up, even though he couldn’t have known when they might come back, and he did have a lot he had been dealing with before they left.  She would let it lie; she was encouraged, at least, that May Alice had opened up to her, and that her insight illustrated a genuine maturity that Chantelle had not seen in her with regard to Rennie.  She believed in her heart, it meant one thing; May Alice was in love with Rennie. 

Convinced she’d, at least, thwarted May Alice’s latest attempt to sabotage her self-esteem with regard to Rennie, Chantelle felt confident enough to leave her that Saturday afternoon and drive in to Lafayette to fill the car with gas; something they’d been too tired to remember to do earlier in the week.  She was as surprised to run into Sugar LeDoux, as he was to see her back in town.  She was amused by their exchange because, while they’d had a tentative friendship, and casual relations, she felt like she was meeting him again for the first time.  He, on the other hand, picked up right where they’d left off, as though no time had passed at all.  He invited her for dinner and dancing that night, and for reasons unbeknownst to her, she accepted, although, not without hesitation that lingered well through the afternoon. In fact, by the time she was about to leave the house that evening to meet up with Sugar, she asked May Alice, for the third time since her return, “You’re sure there’s nothing else you might need?”  She was hopeful for a yes, but it was a stalling tactic; they both knew it and they were both mystified by it.

“I am fine, Chantelle.  Why are you so nervous about this?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, somewhat annoyed at the lack of answer, but having no excuse, she said goodbye to May Alice and left.

Chantelle arrived at the LeDoux home just before 7:00 p.m. and was met by a barrage of activity.  Kids of all ages, about six of them, were moving throughout the house with various plans and orders for the others.  She had met several of them in the past, and they were always polite and friendly, but more understated than their boisterous father.  Finally, Sugar entered the room and met her with a warm embrace and a kiss on the mouth.  He yelled out various instructions for the kids; some he ordered to be good for their sister, and be in bed by 9:00; others he told to be in by 11:00 and he told the oldest boy no drinking.  The boy, still a bit underage for such activity, shrugged his shoulders and said, “I know, Dad,” and seemed sincere. 

As the two left the house, Sugar complimented Chantelle on her new hair style and said she looked thinner than she did at Christmas.  “Charming,” she replied, rolling her eyes and, nevertheless, smiling at him.  He was no Bennett Marley, but she appreciated his sincere, no-bullshit approach to her.  It felt pure, nothing like how May Alice’s friends were in New York.  Her apprehension quickly dissipated and the pair enjoyed their evening.  They’d talked about New York, about Sugar’s kids, and about Sugar’s role in grooming a horse named ‘Line in the Sand’ who had recently won the Louisiana Derby and was going on to run in the Kentucky Derby that May.  They danced until the hall closed at 2 a.m., and then returned to a much quieter LeDoux home.  Chantelle was set to drive the fifteen miles back home but quickly found herself wrapped around Sugar in a passionate exchange.  She did not return home that evening. 

When she did arrive home on Sunday mid-morning, she found the house empty.  She knew May Alice would be down by the boat dock, and when she’d confirmed that, by seeing her through the kitchen window, she proceeded to go upstairs to shower and change clothes.  When she returned downstairs a half hour later, she noticed some papers on the table near May Alice’s computer.  They were sketches, she could see, upon leafing through them and she wondered if May Alice had, yet another undiscovered talent budding.  When she examined them more closely, however, she noticed they were rough drawings of a floor plan; maybe a bedroom.  She turned the paper on an angle and saw writing that said bed, armoire, and then another block labeled bathroom, with a question mark.  “Interesting” she declared aloud.  She took that sketch from the pile and proceeded out the back door to catch up with May Alice.

“You must have had a good time,” May Alice said as she heard her approach.  She was not upset; not that Chantelle worried about that anymore, she had spent nights with Sugar in the past, and May Alice was always fine with it. 

Chantelle nodded and responded with a casual “Yeah.”  Then she asked May Alice, “So, you moving out?”

“Um . . . not to my knowledge,” she answered.  Puzzled as to why Chantelle was asking, she turned her chair to face her for an explanation, and saw then that she was holding up the sketch she’d taken from inside.  “Oh, that.  I thought it might be good to expand the room I’m in.”  Chantelle found it curious May Alice did not call it her room.  “I know I need a good bed, but the room still isn’t very big, and putting a regular size bed in it will make it even harder to get the chair in and out; and you know the issues I have with the size of that bathroom.”

“I think it’s a great idea.  Do you think you can find a contractor to do it?”

“I think Rennie might be able to help me find one.”

“You want me to call him?”  May Alice didn’t answer right off.  It was as though it had never dawned on her, until that moment, that in order to get Rennie’s help, she’d actually need to contact Rennie.

“No,” she finally answered, “I’ll do it, maybe tomorrow.”

Another week passed and May Alice still had not made that call.  Chantelle had no idea why she was so apprehensive to do it.  The expansion of the room was necessary, and money was not an issue, and it gave May Alice the perfect excuse to call Rennie.  Still, she didn’t push, she knew May Alice couldn’t possibly go much longer without seeing him.  As for her, she was set to spend the afternoon with Sugar and his girls.  His teenage daughter was barrel racing, and had a competition that day.  She was excited to watch, and when she departed the house, she needlessly told May Alice, “Don’t wait up.”

“I never do,” she replied, in a high, sing-song voice.  Once she was gone however, May Alice suddenly realized she had nothing planned to do the rest of the day.  She’d already completed her work out; she’d had lunch, there was never anything on TV, she really needed to look into getting cable, she remembered.  Soon, she found herself drawn to the water, like always.  She wheeled out and stopped short of the dock, enjoying the cool breeze and the shade of the willows.  She just watched the water.  It was her favorite time of year on the bayou.  Spring brought the majority of the bird species together and the fish leapt from the water, feeding like mad on the early crop of mosquitoes and other insects that would be in full swarm by summer.  She was soon lost the sights and sounds around her.  She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard a boat coming around the bend in the river.  As it came into view, she realized it was Rennie.  He was speeding along about a half mile out.  He was not heading in her direction he was just cruising past, going up river where she knew he had numerous fishing spots.  He was nearly out of sight before he glanced over in her direction.  When she thought he did, she waved her arm high, but he’d kept on moving upstream.  She smiled, happy to have caught a glimpse of him and content in the belief he’d not seen her. 

Rennie was lost in his own thoughts about the arrival of spring as he made his way up the river.  He had taken the kids to the library that morning and they’d planned to spend the afternoon together on the river, but Bully Jenkins ran into them at lunch and invited them to go with him, and his family, to the 4H Rodeo going on that weekend.  The kids, much to Rennie’s surprise, begged him to let them go along.  Mr. Jenkins had three of his four girls with him, and they assured Rennie if he didn’t want to come along, they would be happy to keep watch on the younger kids.  Their oldest daughter was riding in the rodeo, which added to the kids’ excitement.  He’d so looked forward to the spring day on the water he declined, but took the Jenkins up on the offer to entertain the kids for the day.  He was almost ashamed to find how much he’d been missing his days alone on the river.  He loved having the kids with him more, he knew, but he definitely missed this.  Just as he rounded the bend into the mouth of the river, he saw a pair of sand hill cranes flying above the open water.  _That’s a good omen._   In many cultures, cranes are revered as good omens, but he liked that the sand hill cranes were so abundant in the area.  He never tired of watching their graceful glides and swift dives.  “Life mates,” he said aloud, for no real reason.  He continued to drive and watch as the cranes started a slow decent to rest along the shore line, and his eyes followed their path until they landed.  Then he realized he was just up from the Culhane house.  He glanced over and thought he saw movement on the shore, by the dock.  Convinced he was seeing things, he kept on his journey for another few moments.  Then, overcome by happiness, he realized, yes – he had seen someone waving at him from the shore, and he knew it had to be May Alice.  He drew back on the throttle, turned the boat around and headed back in her direction.  As he neared, he found himself smiling and waving back at her.  They watched one another as the boat drew nearer, and finally arrived at her dock.  May Alice remained stationary on the shore as Rennie moored his boat, walked up the dock, and stopped at its edge, just enjoying the sight of her waiting there for him, so unexpectedly and welcome.  At a loss for meaningful words, he simply stated the obvious.  “You’re back.”

“Yes,” she said, radiating a smile that had not left her face since she first saw him.  Rennie walked the rest of the way up to her on the shore and found he had no idea what the protocol was now.  Should he hug her? Shake her hand?  They’d been apart for so long, and the last time they’d been together, they had not been alone.  So, he just stood before her, his hat in his hand from when he’d removed it to greet her.  Somehow she seemed more beautiful than he’d ever remembered her being, and he felt like he could just stand there and stare at her forever.  May Alice was, likewise, unsure of their status at that moment.  She was overcome by happiness at seeing him again, but guilt, over having not so much as called him, even one time in months to see how he was doing, nagged at her.  She was trying to read his face for a clue to what he might be feeling now.  Was he angry with her?  Hurt?  Was the smile on his face going to fade quickly upon his realization of what a selfish brat she’s been?  “You’re still smiling,” she said to him after a moment.  “I hope that’s a good sign.”

As easily as he had been rendered unable to move before, he was then propelled toward her.  Protocol be damned, he lowered to his knees and reached for her.  She returned the embrace and basked in the feel of him.  It was like holding sunshine, she thought.  Suddenly, everything about him overwhelmed her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat, as though she might cry.  Rennie didn’t notice right off; he was so busy memorizing how she felt in his arms, how she smelled and how soft her hair was against his cheek.  Upon feeling her small gasp, Rennie worried he was squeezing the breath from her, and he released his embrace, pulling back a little to see her face.  He saw tears forming in her eyes, eyes that he’d never recalled being quite so green.  He removed the familiar handkerchief from his shirt pocket and held her chin in his hand as he dabbed the mist from her eyes.  They were both still smiling, completely surprised by, but understanding, the feelings happening between them.  “Why wouldn’t I be smilin’ at you?” he asked quietly, not sure what the combination of her smile, mixed with tears, was about. 

Her smile faded, but she found her words flowed easily, and with an honesty that she rarely presented, “I have not been a good friend to you, and I’m so ashamed.”  He could tell she was conflicted about that declaration and he couldn’t understand it.

“Well, I’ve always believed someone is a friend, or they ain’t; I’ve never, not considered you a friend.”  She was touched by the simplicity of his belief, and she knew, for him, it was true but it did little to make her feel better.  She marveled in his words, and quickly her smile returned.  “That’s better,” Rennie said, releasing her chin and placing the handkerchief back into his pocket.  “Hey, you feel like comin’ out on the river with me?”  He was remarkable, she thought; something that had been weighing so heavily on her mind, her continued neglect of Rennie all these months, seemed to be a non-event to him.  She wasn’t sure she believed it, but something in her knew he was sincere.

“I would love that,” she replied.

The pair prepared a small bag of provisions for May Alice, and, of course, left a note for Chantelle.  Within thirty minutes they were underway, heading along the river.  Rennie mentioned the pair of cranes, who were still together on the shoreline just up from May Alice’s dock.  She commented that she had been watching them fly in, as well.  As they continued their journey up the river toward a fishing spot, May Alice was again lost in the sights and sounds and smells of the swamp she had been so removed from during the winter and ever grateful Rennie could make her a part of all of it again.  After Rennie had parked them in a boggy cove, and had set up his fishing gear, he moved May Alice out of the boat and on to the shore where he’d laid out a soft blanket for her to sit on.  There was more shade there than in the boat, and he wanted to talk with her, like they used to.  He wanted to sit beside her and enjoy her presence.  He’d settled her in, then re-secured his baited lines in the boat before finally resting at her side.  “I hear your play went real well,” he started.

She was surprised he knew, and she was ever-curious about where he got his information. “Yeah, it did.  I got lucky, I guess.”

“Aw, I’m sure it was more’n that,” he said, confident that she was being humble.  There was a brief silence while Rennie picked at the long grasses bordering the blanket they were sitting on.  He was trying to find courage to ask the next question.  “So, when are you going back?”  He looked at her, suddenly feeling like he needed to memorize her face again because it would not be around much longer.

She was still watching the water, but felt his gaze on her.  “Well, the play sold, so it’s really out of my hands now.  They may want me to go back for casting, and maybe the opening so, it’s hard to say really, but maybe another month or two.”  He was heartbroken.  She noticed his tentative smile from before had faded, and he looked away from her, back to the water.  She was about to continue but his reaction made her pause to question what she’d just said to cause it.  She quickly surmised what he thought her going back must have meant to him.  Maybe he thought she would be going back to New York for good, and maybe his reaction meant he was unhappy about it?  “That is, if I want to go,” she offered, trying to gauge if she’d guessed right.  He looked back at her inquisitively, and she was encouraged to continue, “It’s a lot of work, you know?  A lot of travel and the pace is . . . well, you can imagine.”  She moved her hand to touch his forearm, which was wrapped around his bent knee.  His intense gaze returned to her as she made the contact, and she returned the look, and concluded for him, “I’m not moving back to New York.”  His smile returned and she was, again, warmed to her core by him. 

He knew those cranes had been a good omen, he just had no idea what good news they portended.


	22. 22

**Chapter 22**

“You’re stayin’ here?” Rennie asked, hopeful he’d heard her right and his mind had not simply snapped and made it all up.

“Of course, this is my home.” 

“But is it where you want to be?” 

She was still focused on his face, fascinated by the mix of emotions she’d seen cross it in the last few moments.  She squeezed his forearm harder and replied, “I think it is, yes,” then she released his arm and turned her gaze back to the water.  It was a question she’d needed eight weeks in New York City to ask herself, and he’d just tossed it out as easily as his baited fishing line.

“Well then, I’m real happy about that.  I’d ‘a missed you; I did miss you,” he added. 

As she began to return the sentiment, she oddly recalled Ben having said those words to her, and she remembered not really believing him.  Now, she wondered if maybe it could have been true, maybe Ben really had missed her.  Perhaps not everyone is as suspicious as she was, she wondered.  Regardless of the answer, she did not doubt Rennie, and she hoped he would not doubt her.  “You don’t have to believe this, Rennie, but I missed you too.”  They returned to silence for a few minutes until May Alice realized she was still being that selfish brat she loathed.  “I can’t believe we’re talking about me; you’re the one who has had such a hard time.”  Then without any regard to those southern manners, where one simply did not pry, she asked, “What’s going on?”  Rennie didn’t answer right away.  She sensed he was searching for the words, and she was right, he was at a loss for where to begin.  She tried to help him out, “Chantelle said Arlene left a while ago.  How are the kids doing without her?”  That worked in Rennie’s favor; he was able to start, and soon he was filling her in, and he was surprised how easy it was to tell her everything, and how good it felt to have her confidence. 

For her part, May Alice listened in silence, stifled by the sadness she felt at hearing all the family had endured since Christmas.  Although Rennie’s outlook seemed all right, she worried about his kids.  She remembered what it was like to not have your parents around when you wanted them.  She was an only child, and her parents had been together, but she still remembered many times when she needed them and they were off on some adventure, or she was away at school.  She pretended she was fine, and they were happy believing she was so well adjusted.  Hearing him speak of his children, and the courageousness he prided them with, did little to assuage her worry for them.  They were so young.

When Rennie had finished, she once again reached for his hand and she said the only thing she could muster that would not sound trite, or pitying, “I am so sorry this is happening to you.  You’re one of the best people I know, and you deserve better.”  He nodded and held the hand that had reached for his.    After a few moments, May Alice said, “I think you have a bite,” and motioned, with her head, toward his boat.  One of the fishing lines was bobbing. 

He jumped up from the blanket and fetched the line, which indeed, had a large catfish fighting it.  Rennie reeled the line in easily, even though it was quite a large fish.  “Looks about a four pounder,” he said, looking back to May Alice on the shore.  She was happy; not about the fish, certainly not about Rennie’s trials, but happy to finally be back there with him, where he was happiest, even when he was sad.

They packed up soon after the catch; the sun was setting by then and he knew May Alice might need some assistance in a way he was not equipped to help with.  “You all right?” he asked, before he positioned himself to scoop her up from the blanket and into the boat.  She nodded.  There was something so intimate about the momentary closeness of their faces when he lifted her.  She’d forgotten how readily she could feel the muscles in his arms and shoulders when he’d carry her.  As though no time at all had passed between them, her mind had returned to the feelings she’d tried so hard to bury in their time apart.  She felt the warmth again, her heart began to pound, and she felt herself blushing, the redness in her face being compounded by the thought he would see right through her.  As he settled her in the boat and began to release his hold on her, he looked at her face and noticed she was flushed.  Worried, he immediately let go and retrieved a canteen from the cooler.  “I let you sit too long in the sun, you sure you’re okay?” he asked, handing her the canteen. 

Embarrassed, she was grateful for the diversion, and took a drink of the water.  She looked away from him and felt her eyes rolling over her reaction.  She returned the lid to the canteen, and while handing it back replied, “No, it’s not that at all.  Really, I’m fine.”  Indeed, the redness in her cheeks had dissipated and he was happy he’d not have to explain to Chantelle that he’d let May Alice become dehydrated. 

They enjoyed the boat ride home.  The sun was setting and the breeze was perfect.  They spied many bird species, nutria and some gators who were preparing for their evening hunt.  Upon mooring at her dock, May Alice said, “You should clean that fish and I’ll make it for us for dinner.  It’s been ages since I had catfish.”  She knew the kids were at the rodeo and wouldn’t be back until later in the evening.

“Sure,” he said, grateful the day with her would not have to end just yet.  He hurried to get her to the house where she could do whatever she might need to after being out all afternoon.  Then he returned to the boat, retrieved the fish, and her belongings, and proceeded to the house again. 

They worked together to prepare the dinner, and Rennie was impressed watching how she improvised around the kitchen, reaching for the things that were clearly too high for her in her wheelchair.  He helped as much as she’d allow while they talked more about all kinds of things that friends talk about, and less about Rennie and his family situation.  While eating, May Alice was describing a seafood dish she’d had at a restaurant in New York and Rennie, which immediately reminded Rennie of the photograph Tracy had mined for him.  Much to his own surprise, and horror, he blurted out, “I saw a picture of you, and a man there.” 

May Alice stopped chewing, astonished by the interruption, its subject, and the fact that she had no idea what he was referring to.  She put her fork down and looked at him inquisitively.  “You saw a picture of me?” she reiterated.

It was Rennie’s turn to be embarrassed.  He shifted in his seat and tried to down play his reaction.  “Well,” he stammered, “Yeah.  Uh, I was at the library – with the kids,” he added, as though that would dilute his voyeurism.  “Well, anyway – I saw a picture, and it said something about you and a producer.”

“Huh,” May Alice said nonchalantly, and completely distracted from the implication of why Rennie brought it up, said only, “Interesting . . .”  She realized it could have been taken anywhere; she was always around Austin Wyatt.  Her vanity quickly seized her next thoughts.  She wondered immediately what she looked like.  Was she in the chair?  Is that how they printed it?  Maybe it was in the theater?  Then she was lost in the fact that paparazzi had shot her without her even realizing it.  That never would have happened before, she knew.  In her acting days, she was always on guard, making sure she looked her best, and would not be seen anywhere, or with anyone, she shouldn’t be.  Finally, she remembered Rennie, and offered, “Was I in the theater?”  Still embarrassed over his having brought it up, and knowing his answer would compound his embarrassment, he hesitated.  She picked up on that immediately but, misinterpreting it, said, “Oh no, how bad was it?”  Now he felt even more confounded for making her think it was something dreadful.  This was turning into a disaster. 

“No, it wasn’t bad.  Uh, in fact, you looked real pretty.  It was just some restaurant,” he confessed.

“Oh?”  Further mystified that she had been out in public, and still hadn’t seen the photographer, she quickly realized it could only have been Ben in the picture with her.  Beautiful, attentive Ben.  It started dawning on her why Rennie may have brought it up.  “Oh . . .”  she repeated, over that realization.  She thought about explaining, but found she had no idea what to respond.  Many feelings and thoughts of Ben rushed back to her in that moment and rendered her silent on the matter.  Rennie was imagining the reason for her sudden discomfort and he was angry at himself for derailing the nice time they had been having by bringing it up.

May Alice tried to move past the awkwardness by changing the subject, and Rennie accommodated, but something had changed.  He seemed a little uncomfortable, and he hurried to help her clear the table, and explained he needed to get home to meet the kids.  She understood, but was upset that she couldn’t have just answered Rennie honestly.  Ben was a friend.  Of course, there was more, at least in that time there was, and that, she could not explain to Rennie because she didn’t understand it all herself.  Still, as he prepared to leave her dock that evening, she had reconciled enough to say, “The man in the photograph is the man who bought the production rights to my play.”

Rennie stopped unmooring for a moment and looked up at her.  “I didn’t mean to pry,” he said honestly. 

She laughed at that, and replied, “I just spent the better part of an afternoon asking you about your wife, your kids, and your marriage; now _that’s_ prying.”  He gave her a half smile, and then he nodded, and continued into the boat.  She waved as he departed, and wondered what damage she had just done to their precarious friendship with her inability to reconcile her feelings for unavailable men in her life.  She was truly pathetic, she thought.

Rennie sped away from the dock.  He tried to believe May Alice’s explanation about the man from New York, but he simply couldn’t.  Her hesitation, and delayed response, was confirmation to him, that the look of intimacy he’d interpreted, had to have been correct.  He felt worse then, than he had that day in the rose garden at the library.  That day, he’d concluded he was angry at himself, and that anger had simply manifested itself when seeing the photograph; but today, being with her again, touching her, hearing her voice, seeing her face, he knew what he felt was good old-fashioned jealousy, and that embarrassed him most of all.  By some small act of fate, in the middle of his thoughts of May Alice, and that other man, he suddenly recalled his joy, earlier that day, when she’d said the words, _this is my home._ The memory served him well.He was able to reason that, had the man really meant something to her, she surely would not have returned to Lafayette, to _home_.  By the time he’d reached the marina, he’d allowed himself to return to thoughts of her being home, to the feel of her, and to the other memories from that day, and those thoughts quickly outweighed all others.  He was happy to return home to his kids and hear about their equally delightful day at the 4H rodeo with the Jenkins’.

As he prepared himself for bed later that night, he decided he would apologize to May Alice for his abrupt reaction, and he hoped she’d not seen through him, and his adolescent jealousy.  He removed his undershirt and caught a brief scent of her on it.  How could he go and ruin such a perfect day?  He was truly pathetic, he thought.


	23. 23

**Chapter 23**

Chantelle returned home Saturday evening having had a great day at the rodeo.  Sugar’s daughter, Albertine, had taken second place in her barrel race.  Much to Chantelle’s surprise, she had found herself the girl’s biggest cheerleader.  The day had been fun, but long, so Chantelle had declined Sugar’s usual invitation to stay the night.  May Alice greeted her, having heard her coming in the front door.  For her part, she had been tapping away at the computer while waiting to become tired.  The women greeted one another, inquired about the other’s day and Chantelle was very happy to learn that Rennie had not only come by, but had also entertained May Alice all afternoon.  No mention was made of the awkward farewell between the two, so Chantelle went to bed happier than most nights.  She was happy for Albertine, happy for May Alice, and happy for herself, for the first time in a very long time.  However, the following morning’s breakfast discussion cast a momentary cloud over Chantelle’s outlook for her friends.  May Alice had asked Chantelle if she’d mentioned Ben in her letter to Rennie when she was in New York.

“No, why?”

“He mentioned yesterday that he’d seen a photograph in some magazine with me, and a man, in a restaurant.  He seemed . . . I don’t know, bothered by it.  It was all very odd.  I just couldn’t imagine where he’d have seen it.”

Chantelle was intrigued.  “So, what did you tell him?”

May Alice went on to describe, first, her non-answer, and then her lame follow-up.  “He still seemed bothered though.  It doesn’t make any sense.”

Chantelle was mystified.  _How could these two be so blind?_   “May Alice, you’re an idiot.  He’s jealous!”

“That’s ridiculous.  Why would he be jealous?”  She seemed genuine in her idiocy, Chantelle thought.

“Because, hello? He likes you!  And you know what?  You like him too.  I don’t know why you can’t just admit that.  Clearly, he means something to you.  You wanted to protect him from you, for heaven’s sake.  That’s more than like, that’s almost . . . love.”

May Alice, matter-of-factly, repeated the statement; it was not a question, “You think I love Rennie.”

“Yes, I do.”  Chantelle said flatly, letting it sink in for a moment.  Then she continued, “You never thought there was anything here for you, yet, you didn’t want to stay in New York.  Tell me you felt nothing for Rennie when he showed up here yesterday.”  She looked at May Alice point blank, challenging her to try and lie.  May Alice’s face went as silent as her voice, as she recalled, very well, what she’d felt.  Chantelle worried for a moment that she’d overstepped, but then, as quickly, decided her friend needed a little push.  She proceeded softly, “I know you tried to bury those thoughts of him, but you’re not going to be able to.” 

Finally, May Alice looked up from the spot on the table she’d been staring at and said quietly, “He’s married.” 

“That doesn’t change how you feel about him.  And maybe he’s not going to stay married?  We don’t know, but you gotta admit, it’s not looking so good.”

“Well, if that’s true, then I am the last thing he needs to be thinking about.”

“But he _is_ thinking about you, May Alice.  From what I can tell, he has since the day I first met him.  He wasn’t hurt that you never called or wrote him from New York, but he’s jealous about some paparazzi photograph?  He is thinking about you, and you’re a fool for not letting him know you’re thinking about him too.” 

With that, Chantelle felt she’d made her point and had given May Alice plenty to process.  They cleared the table in silence and, eventually, May Alice had joined the world again, and asked Chantelle what her plans were for the day.  Neither had any real plans so they adopted their usual routine with May Alice rolling outside to do her therapy and Chantelle writing a letter to Denita.  Shortly before lunch, May Alice returned to the house.  She seemed herself again, Chantelle thought.  Like other times before, she knew she’d planted a seed within May Alice.  This time, however, she’d watered it, fertilized it and was going to watch it grow.  May Alice couldn’t hide behind her paralysis anymore, her night with Ben proved that; and she couldn’t deny her feelings about Rennie, now that Chantelle had, so blatantly, called them from the shadows. 

They discussed what sounded good for lunch and Chantelle offered to start the preparation when May Alice said she had a phone call to make.  Chantelle was curious; she found herself moving silently around the kitchen in hopes of hearing what May Alice would say to Rennie.  At least, she assumed it would be Rennie; nothing was happening with New York, and those were the only calls Chantelle had ever seen May Alice make.  She eavesdropped on the one-sided conversation and learned it was, in fact, Rennie on the other end.  Quickly, she felt she was intruding, and she made her way out of the kitchen in a feigned trip to the restroom in order to give May Alice some privacy.  She wanted to know what they were taking about but she also knew she’d learn, soon enough, whatever was going to happen between them.

“Hi, Rennie.  It’s May Alice,” she said when he answered, and then shook her head over her stating the obvious. 

“Oh, uh, hi.  I was gonna call you,” he started.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” he answered, but began to lose his nerve, so, continued, “but you called me instead.”  He ran his free hand through his hair, grabbing a tuft in frustration over his stating the obvious. 

“Yesterday, I had wanted to show you something that I think I could use your help with, but I forgot,” May Alice continued.

“I could come by.”

“If it’s no trouble, and it doesn’t have to be today, just whenever you have time.”

“All right then.  I’ll be by soon.”

“Great.  Thank you.”  While that was a natural conclusion to the conversation, neither initiated a goodbye until at once, they both did.  Speaking over one another May Alice was starting to say “I had a really nice time yesterday,” while he was saying, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”  They both laughed, and it broke what little tension may have been between them. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Rennie said next.

“I am too.”  There was another pause, then May Alice finished with, “So, I’ll see you soon then.”

“Yeah.”  Then they both said goodbye and hung up.

As soon as May Alice had placed the receiver in the cradle, the phone rang.  She picked up, fully expecting Rennie had forgotten something, but to her surprise, it was Dr. Blades.  The two exchanged pleasantries, and by the time they were done, Chantelle had returned to the room.  May Alice ventured into the kitchen to help with lunch while the father and daughter talked.  Usually Dr. Blades called later in the day, so, she hoped the change wasn’t anything unfortunate.  Soon after, she learned the news was anything but. 

“My Dad is going to let Denita stay for the summer,” Chantelle said cautiously; not knowing, for certain, how May Alice would feel about that.  It was still her house, after all.  “If it’s still okay with you, that is,” she added.

May Alice looked up from the counter where she was pouring tea for them.  “Of course it is, yes! That’s wonderful, Chantelle.”  Chantelle produced a smile, bigger than any May Alice had ever seen on her before.  She was elated for the woman, she deserved to be with her child and May Alice felt fortunate to be around during those happy times. 

The rest of the afternoon they, periodically, thought of things regarding Denita’s arrival.  She and Dr. Blades would arrive over the Memorial Day weekend and then Dr. Blades would return for her mid-August.  During one discussion, May Alice brought up her telephone conversation with Rennie from the morning, and that it was about the remodel of the downstairs bedroom and bathroom.  While weighing the pro’s, and con’s, they ultimately agreed that, if the remodel could even happen, it wouldn’t interfere with Denita’s stay.  The dawning of spring, the return of Rennie, the news about Denita, all made for another great day for the women, and when the each turned in for the night, they slept well, feeling nothing but promise in the air.

Rennie had a long Sunday.  The kids had been cranky, overly tired from the previous day at the rodeo.  They were so keyed up after the Jenkins’ returned them home, they’d stayed up much too late.  Rennie let them sleep in, like he always did on Sunday, but being kids, they didn’t sleep in very long.  They were already awake by the time Rennie spoke with May Alice on the phone.  Fortunately, he’d learned, in his many weeks alone with them, how to keep them from sniping at one another in their fatigue.  He knew a day on the river always did them good.  By one o’clock, they were loaded up, and all but Sabine were excited for the warming weather and the chance to get back in the swamp with their Pa.  As he loaded them into the boat he told them how he’d spent the day before on the river, and told them of the catfish he caught, and that Miss May Alice had cooked up for dinner.  “Maybe we’ll get that lucky again today,” he told them.  “It’s good fishin’ right now, y’know.  One of the best times all year.”  He was right; they caught plenty of fish that day.  Even Jaxon, who was in charge of baiting the hooks, with a little help from his Pa, caught a big catfish on his Snoopy fishing rod.  Sabine, who still was apprehensive about anything she couldn’t see through, like forests, and rivers, and swaps, didn’t fish, but even she enjoyed the day.  She spent most of the day reading a book and entertaining Elizabeth who was still too little to master a fishing rod.  They arrived home too late to prepare the fish for dinner, so they grabbed pizza on the way.  Rennie knew his kids well; the day served to calm them, and once fed, and bathed, each was fast asleep by seven thirty.

It was Tuesday afternoon before Rennie had time to get out to May Alice’s house.  Chantelle greeted him at the door, having heard his truck coming up the tree lined drive.  Not having seen each other yet since Chantelle had returned from New York, they embraced in a brief and friendly bear-hug.

“You done your hair different,” Rennie commented.

“Yeah,” she said reaching up to verify every hair was in place. “New York, y’know?”

“It looks real nice.” 

The two caught up briefly as she escorted him in to the house and set him up with the customary, sweet, iced tea.  As she handed him the glass, she excused herself to go and wake May Alice.  She explained that May Alice had therapy in town with Louise earlier and those trips usually required a nap following.  Rennie protested, saying he could return another time, but Chantelle assured him she had slept long enough and needed get up anyway.  The women returned shortly and May Alice was refreshed, and happy that Rennie made it by so quickly.  The trio set up in the living room around the dining table, and May Alice told him about her idea to remodel the home to Rennie, and explained what she’d needed his help with in regard to it.  She explained she knew he would know the right people to contract if he couldn’t do such a job himself.  “That is,” she added, “if the house can even withstand a remodel?”

Rennie was certain the house could accommodate the work, based on his previous work there.  “It’s built real well, it’s solid,” he assured her. 

While May Alice maneuvered to get the drawings she’d sketched, to give him an idea of what she had in mind, she told him she hoped, if he could do the work, it would be easier for him to stay in Lafayette with the kids during their break from school.  He’d mentioned to her, that previous Saturday, that he hadn’t even thought about the summer break and how that would affect the family routine.  He’d not mentioned money, of course, he never would, but May Alice knew his inability to travel for jobs had cut into his livelihood because, even for a town the size of Lafayette, there was only so much work he could find in the immediate area.

She spread the various sketches on the table and moved close to Rennie’s side in order to point out the features she was hoping to incorporate in the expanded space.  He was surprised how thoroughly she’d thought out what she’d wanted, and was impressed with the meager sketches that illustrated she’d had some exposure to blueprints, as her symbols for utilities and doorways and the like, were all accurate.  Chantelle took that moment to excuse herself and leave the two to the plans.  It had not been May Alice’s intent to be so close to Rennie when she’d laid out the pages, but when she felt their forearms touching on the table top, her senses were immediately heightened.  She would have pulled back some but she didn’t want to.  Rennie didn’t mind.  He was warm, and she was soft, and neither chose to put any space between them.  They remained that close for another half hour, until they’d finally run out of things to discuss at such an early stage in the work proposal.  When they did part, Rennie had agreed to discuss the work with some of his contacts and get back to her as soon as he could line up a few people. 

Chantelle had returned in time to say goodbye to Rennie, but before he left, she asked what he and the kids had planned for the following Saturday.  When he said they rarely planned past the library trip and lunch, she offered that they should all come out for the afternoon and stay for dinner.  “The weather is getting so nice; they can enjoy it before the bugs get too thick.  And I know May Alice and I would love to see them again,” she said.  With the last part, she looked at May Alice for the confirmation she knew was there. 

“We would,” she replied needlessly, “It’s a great idea, Chantelle.”

“All right then,” Rennie said, as he placed his hat on his head, and opened the front door to leave.  He stopped and looked back, and said, “That’d be nice.  We’ll bring the fish though; caught near twelve pounds worth yesterday,” he bragged happily.  The women agreed, and Rennie departed.  May Alice watched his truck all the way to the end of her driveway, hoping Saturday would arrive quickly.

However, Saturday didn’t arrive as quickly as May Alice hoped and, two, rain-soaked days in between that Tuesday and Saturday didn’t help one bit.  She did find some solace in writing.  She’d tried to flesh out one of several ideas that had been wafting through her imagination of late.  She didn’t have much to show for it however, so, when the sun replaced the rains on Friday, she was happy to abandon the computer and return to the outdoors.  She stayed out all morning just enjoying the atmosphere. 

Following lunch, however, May Alice asked to join Chantelle on the supermarket trip she’d be taking in preparation for their visitor’s the following day.  She had slowly been getting over her aversion to being seen in, and around town, and Chantelle couldn’t have been happier about that.  It was all part of May Alice’s growing independence and acceptance.  Besides the benefit to May Alice, it helped Chantelle feel more at ease when taking more time for herself when she needed it.  That would be an important advantage when Denita arrived.  She longed to spend time alone with her child; she looked forward to the opportunity to re-learn who her daughter was, and to show her that her mother was so much better than the one the little girl remembered.  She was not sure Denita could fully understand the amount of time she devoted daily to May Alice, and she worried that Denita would feel she came second.  Still, it was important for Denita to see her mother at work, to show her that she possessed an important skill, and that she could handle such responsibility and still be a good mother.

As the pair drove into town, Chantelle mentioned that Louise had called earlier in the day, and had found a therapist who’d agreed to work with May Alice at the YMCA pool two days a week.  Louise was too busy to give up the time with her other patients, but having seen the benefit of the water therapy May Alice had done in New York, she vowed she’d find someone to assist.  Chantelle said they could start the following week.

The trip to town was uneventful except for one or two stares May Alice had received in the aisles of the Winn Dixie.  At the checkout, the clerk had a flash of recognition, and confirmed her expression with a polite, “It’s lovely to see you back, Miss Culhane.  We heard all about your play.  Will you be staying in town?”  May Alice answered, with an equally polite thank you, and affirmation that, indeed, she would be staying. 

When the two exited the store, May Alice said, “Why is everyone so ready for me to leave town?” 

“They’re not ready for you to leave; they’re excited for you.  You should enjoy it, because one day they’ll stop and then you’ll probably miss it.”  Both women wondered if that would prove true.


	24. 24

**Chapter 24**

Rennie arrived on Saturday, as planned, with all five Boudreaux kids in tow, and from the moment they arrived, quiet would not be heard around the property for hours.  The kids were elated to be able to have so much space to roam and the weather was perfect for it.  After the first twenty minutes of exuberant kids running back and forth across the back yard, Rennie looked at his adult hostesses and said with a smile, “Sure you’re not going to regret this?”

“No way,” May Alice said.  “It’s been too long since we had little one’s running around the place.  Anyway, we need the practice don’t we, Chantelle?”

“That’s right,” she responded with a huge grin, “my little girl is coming for the summer.”

“Oh, well, that’s some fine news,” he said, smiling too, because he could imagine how she must be feeling about that.  Rennie still did not know the reason Chantelle and Denita were not together all the time.  Last year, during the Cajun Festival, and the Blades’ first visit, May Alice had offered Rennie only that Chantelle needed time to adjust to being an in-home caregiver before she could decide what was best for her child. 

Chantelle departed briefly and returned with snacks she, and May Alice, had prepared earlier.  She declined Rennie’s offer of help, leaving him to entertain May Alice and watch over the kids.  “They look great, Rennie.” May Alice said, “You should be really proud.”

“Yeah, I guess.  I mean, I am proud.  But they were good kids anyway; I didn’t have so much to do with that.”

“Of course you did,” she turned to face him and continued, “You are good provider.  Kids take that for granted, but if you’d not been, they certainly would have turned out differently.  Even now, without Arlene, they know you love them.  They saw that you never left Acadia’s side when she was sick.  They know they never have to worry about you leaving them.  You shouldn’t discount that contribution to their well-being.  And . . . they are half yours,” she added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah; too bad for ‘em there,” he said with a wry smile, but understanding that, thanks to her affirmation, maybe he had not been so absent a father to them after all.  If he didn’t already, he would love her forever for seeing that in him.

Once the grounds had been sufficiently investigated by the various Boudreaux kids, the girls had returned to the back porch and joined up with the adults.  Chantelle had put out lemonade and cookies for them.  Jaxon had arrived first and eyed May Alice, much the way he had the first time they met over her kitchen table.  She said to the boy, who she thought must have grown three inches since she’d last seen him, “Jaxon, I see you still have that alligator you got for Christmas.”  The toy was firmly in his hand, and he’d been introducing it to the water, earlier, from the shore by her boat ramp.  He smiled and held the alligator out toward her. 

“He likes the water,” the boy said.

“Well, it’s a good thing,” she responded.  Then she looked at Acadia, who had just sat down beside her.  “Acadia, you look wonderful.  School must agree with you.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.  I feel just fine and my doctors say I’m doing better than a lot of kids like me.”

“She has a big scar,” Sabine offered, “like a pirate cut her open and stole a pearl from inside!” she said dramatically while simulating a scooping motion.  All her siblings, including Acadia burst into laughter; that had been a long running joke between all of them, less the ‘stole a pearl’ reference. 

Rennie was laughing too, and said, “That’s a new addition to the story, Sabine.” 

“Yeah,” she said proudly, “I thought of it the other night when you gutted the fish.  It needed some drama.”

“I think it was plenty dramatic to begin with,” Chantelle said, only half in jest.

The kids took turns telling Rennie about the things they’d spied in their few minutes on May Alice’s lawn that afternoon.  Then the conversation turned to school.  After they’d caught Miss May Alice and Miss Chantelle up on the details of their new friends, and what their favorite subjects were, the conversation inevitably led to the summer break, and what might be in store for them.  May Alice worried that the discussion might lead them to speak about their absent mother, but to her amazement, it did not.  The girls told Rennie, apparently for the first time, about a summer reading program they would like to attend on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s at the library.  Rennie reminded them that they had decided to go to the YMCA day camp in town during the summer.  Acadia offered, “Well, you did say you’d like for Jaxon to start swim lessons and maybe he could do that while we’re at the library?”  The younger girls looked hopeful.   Rennie simply said they’d discuss it another time.  The girls let it go, but the women could tell they were disappointed.

The group continued with various discussions awhile longer, and then Rennie and Chantelle decided they would start getting the fish ready for battering and frying.  Rennie told Missy and Sabine they could read under the willow tree if they wanted, which of course, they did.  He’d pulled out crayons and a coloring book for Elizabeth and Jaxon, to which, Jaxon looked incredulous.  “I want to fish,” he said defiantly.

Rennie looked to Acadia, who had pulled out a sketch pad from her satchel to set up next to Elizabeth.  “Again?” Acadia asked.  “I swear, boy, you are going to become a fish,” she declared playfully.  “Okay, run get your stuff from the truck.”  Elated, the toddler ran off toward the front yard.

Acadia started to put the sketch pad back into her bag when May Alice said, “Acadia, would you mind if I took Jaxon?” Acadia was not sure what to say. She looked to her Pa as though looking for the right answer. 

Rennie nodded to the girl, and asked May Alice, “You don’t mind?  He likes to use live worms.” 

“I’d expect nothing less,” she said bravely to Rennie, but scrunched her nose up at Acadia, pretending to be grossed out. 

Acadia laughed, and said, “I’ll help get you set up.”

May Alice laughed and said, “No; I’m teasing.  You stay with Elizabeth.  We’ll be just fine,” and she maneuvered off the porch and waited for the boy to reappear with his gear.  She laughed watching the determined look on Jaxon’s face as he lugged the pole and his tiny tackle box, toward her and the dock, careful not to lose the alligator in his back pocket.  “Mind if I join you?” she asked the boy, as he neared. 

“Naw,” he said.  He put his pole and box down a moment, and reached around for the alligator, which he handed to May Alice.  “You can watch ‘im,” he said.  Then he picked up his gear and headed down to the dock, turning occasionally to see that May Alice, and the alligator were following.  _This one_ , she thought, _might be a little more than half Rennie’s_.  The pair had baited Jaxon’s line with the live bait without incident.  He didn’t appear impressed at her ability with the worm and the hook, but offered, “One day, my Pa will let me bait the hook.”

“Well, you’re already a pro at directing me, so that day may be soon.”  He liked that idea a lot.  She told him he was good to go, but suggested he let her hold the loop on his pants while he cast the line out.  She reminded him that if he fell in, she’d not be the best one to save him.  He said it was okay; he would just set the line out easily from the edge of the dock.  He then cautioned her she shouldn’t get to close to the edge.  She giggled that he thought of that, and he was delighted she thought he could have cast the line out. 

Rennie couldn’t help but watch from the kitchen window as May Alice and his boy made their way to the dock.  Once they appeared settled, he was able to assist Chantelle with the preparation of the corn meal dip for the fish.  About a quarter of an hour passed between each of the pairs when Rennie became worried about May Alice and Jaxon getting too hot in the sun.  He had started out to check on them just as Acadia brought Elizabeth in the back door.  “She needs to go,” she told Rennie.  He agreed to take her, to relieve Acadia a bit, but he did impose upon her to check on May Alice and Jaxon, and tell them he’d be bringing them something to drink.  She obliged but before advancing to the dock, she picked up her sketch book and pencil and took them with her.  She sidled up next to Jaxon and got a status report.  May Alice noticed the tablet and asked her about it. “It’s nuthin’,” she said, “I like to draw.”

“May I see?”  The girl seemed eager to show her, so May Alice was glad she’d asked.  Acadia opened the pages and showed May Alice various drawings of caterpillars, birds, flowers and a pirate.  May Alice laughed at the pirate, but had been truly impressed with the ability of the girl.  “Acadia, these are really good.”

“Thank you, Miss Culhane.  My teacher thinks so too.”

May Alice told her she could call her by her first name, “Well . . . _names_ ,” she emphasized the plural, and that made Acadia laugh. 

Rennie had arrived during the discussion and commented that Acadia’s artistic ability had to have come from her mother’s side.  “I couldn’t draw nuthin’ but a short straw,” he said, chuckling, as he handed glasses of water to May Alice and Jaxon.  He asked Acadia for a look at the latest of her drawings, and the four sat, enjoying the company, and the slight breeze that had arrived.  After only a few minutes, two sand hill cranes flew over and landed on the far side of the shore on the Culhane property, almost exactly where the last two had, the week before.  Rennie followed an urge he had to reach for May Alice’s hand, and she held it in hers until, soon after, Jaxon’s line bobbed in the water, and both Rennie and Acadia jumped to grab the boy lest he fall in the water, lost in his excitement. 

Chantelle, in the meantime, had ventured out to the willow tree with Elizabeth to ask Missy and Sabine if they would like to help her set the table for dinner, which they happily obliged.  They’d just finished placing the last of the chairs around the table when the remaining four returned to the house from the dock.

Over dinner they discussed many more things, including Jaxon’s “keeper” catch, the books the girls had been reading, Acadia’s drawings, and the coming of Denita for the summer.  The girls were eager about her return, and Acadia relayed that she and Denita had, in fact, written letters to one another.  Throughout dinner, and again following, when they’d ventured back on the dock to watch the sun set, Rennie found himself unable to keep from looking at May Alice.  Each time, he believed her more beautiful than the time before, and he often had to force himself back into the discussions happening around him.  He didn’t want to miss those moments, and he was elated that his kids found this house as happy as he had in the year past.

When the evening finally reached its end, Chantelle helped load the kids and gear into Rennie’s truck, leaving Rennie and May Alice to share a few moments alone.  She had noticed a new kinship between the two that day, that ranged from casual comfort, to subtle, but outright, displays of affection.  They had sat together playing a board game with the older girls after dinner, and Chantelle had seen May Alice loop her arm through Rennie’s a couple of times when reaching for the dice.  Another time, when Chantelle had been refiling their drink glasses, she saw the two holding hands, just below the table top.  She had also seen Rennie stealing many looks at May Alice throughout the day.  She was happy for them, and hopeful for them, as well.  She complimented herself on being such a good gardener.

“I’m so glad you brought them out, Rennie,” May Alice said from just inside the front door.  “I had such a great time.”  He was standing beside her, and reached to turn off the living room light.  He then bent to his knees to be face to face with her.  The light from the porch allowed him enough illumination to reach for her face, which he drew into, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth.  She was pleasantly surprised by the boldness of the move, coupled with the gentleness of the kiss.  As soon as he’d parted from her, she reached for his neck, and pulled him back in with a kiss of her own.  Not as gentle a kiss this time, but not a lustful, passionate one either.  It was like no kiss she’d ever delivered before, and it took both their breaths away.  Rennie could not speak, and quickly realized Chantelle was approaching the house.  He stood up and ran his hand along May Alice’s check, down her jaw and lingered, with his thumb on her lower lip, and then, he turned and left out the door.  He thanked Chantelle with another bear hug and said he’d see them soon.  The day was the start to a very pivotal summer for all of the families involved.


	25. 25

**Chapter 25 (M rate)**

The days following that fine Saturday in April were quickly filled with multiple plans for all sorts of things, not the least of which was the remodel of the Culhane home, which was set to begin the last week in May.  Rennie would act as the general contractor only, having determined that, without help, he would never see his kids.  That prospect was unacceptable to both him, and May Alice, so he spoke with several of the smaller contractors he respected from the area.  He’d also researched several architects to find one with experience with handicapped facilities planning.  Deciding on one, in particular, Landry Guillet was an older man with a small firm in New Orleans who had come highly recommended, but, Rennie learned, also had a wife who was wheelchair-bound herself.  Rennie believed with that added experience, all appropriate considerations would be included in any plan for May Alice’s home.

Once Mr. Guillet had taken May Alice’s wish list of accommodations for her bedroom and bath, and made them technically proficient, he returned, in person, to show her his final designs.  He also told Rennie and May Alice he found it beneficial to meet directly with the subcontractors to convey the importance of using the exact measurements and materials called out in such a remodel.  As Rennie had surmised, the house was, in fact, easily able to withstand the additions, but Guillet knew skimping on any of the solid materials needed to maintain its foundation and structure, and the structure of the handicapped facilities, could have devastating effects on the user as well as the house.  “God has dealt this woman a harsh hand already, son”, he would say to the men.  “Let us not compound her fate by cutting corners with her home.”  His declaration might have made all the difference to the contractors had they not already realized May Alice would be present during most of the construction.  She would be a daily reminder of the importance of the work they were doing.  It didn’t hurt any, that she was also was truly grateful for, and gracious with, the men throughout the months it would take to complete the work; and, it would take months because, not only had Guillet completed the specific additions May Alice desired, but also, included many she’d not thought of.  Some of those would extend into the kitchen, where the floors would be raised to allow her easier access to appliances and cabinets, reconstruction to widen all of the doors already in the home, plus, the addition of one large window in her bedroom, that would allow escape access in the event of a fire.  The more May Alice understood the plans, the more she looked forward to the finished product, which was good because the mayhem associated with summer visitors, weather, and schedules, would, on many days, make her question her commitment to such an endeavor.

Somehow, in the few short weeks between Rennie’s agreeing to take on the remodel, and the arrival of summer, he had lined up sitters for the children, enrolled them in various programs at the YMCA and lined up all the final crews for the remodel, all while keeping up the family’s existing routine.  Rennie had hired two teenagers to watch the kids.  Both were girls from Lafayette High School who were grateful for the summer income. 

In those same weeks, May Alice had invited Chantelle to pick a room for Denita to have for the summer.  She told her whichever one she chose, she was free to do anything to it in order to make the child feel at home, including tossing out drapes, rugs, and furniture.  While in past visits Denita had chosen to stay with Chantelle in her room, both women thought a time would come when Denita would need her own space for such an extended stay.  Chantelle understood the generosity of the offer, and she knew May Alice was serious, but she would not consider May Alice’s childhood room for her daughter.  She felt that May Alice was being displaced enough in her own home, and she just couldn’t bring herself to change that room too.  Once she’d decided on another of the guest rooms, she told May Alice she would wait for Denita to arrive to redo the chosen room.  It would give her time to settle into being away from her home and her grandfather, and it would be their first project together for the summer.

May Alice and Rennie, of course, saw each other almost daily during those weeks, and all those that would follow, but spending time alone together, remained a rarity.  Perhaps as consolation, or maybe just because there was something unstoppable between them, the small touches, the stolen glances and stray smiles provided a bridge for them between work and life.

When summer break arrived, the sitters’ schedules included Naomi, who watched the kids Tuesdays and Thursday’s, and Sandy, who was in charge Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  Having two kept both the sitters, and the kids from becoming too bored with each other.  Although Acadia believed having a sitter at her age was embarrassing, it had taken no time at all for her to realize the freedom she suddenly had to do the things she enjoyed.  On the days the kids had activities at the Y or the library, Rennie would drop them off in the morning and rely on the sitters to return them home after, and stay until he finished his work day.  By the second week in June, ground had been broken on the remodel, Denita had arrived, and celebrated her eleventh birthday, the Boudreaux children were trying to adjust to life without the routine of school, and the best laid plans for everyone had already started to fall apart at the seams.  The remodel was supposed to have gone in waves, so as to allow as much comfortable accommodation for May Alice as possible.  The bathroom was to have been first, then the bedroom, then the kitchen.  As it went however, schedules, material availability, and various other construction related occurrences resulted in every modification happening, in some degree, at once.  Doing so allowed Rennie to retain the same crews he’d hired because they could all keep working on some area when another hit a snag.  May Alice liked all the crews and she, too, did not want to lose them to other projects, knowing that it would only delay hers in the long run.  She was, literally, happy to roll with the changes; including the one that displaced her, once again, from the daybed back to the antique couch. 

In the same brief weeks of the Boudreaux kids’ summer routine with the library and the Y, Jaxon and Elizabeth were proving a challenge to both sitters, and their other siblings.  Elizabeth didn’t like one thing about the YMCA daycare, where she was to be while Jaxon was in swim lessons, and the girls were at the library reading program.  She would spend the two hours crying so much that all she would do for the following few hours at home was sleep.  Finally, by the third week, Rennie could no longer take the crocodile tears forming in the child’s eyes when he set her down to leave.  That third Monday, he scooped her right back up, and brought her with him to the Culhane home.  Chantelle and May Alice were happy to have the girl, especially when they’d learned that the stress of the daycare had caused the toddler’s hair to start to fall out.  Denita picked right up with the girl too, and quickly became a surrogate sitter while her mother helped May Alice ready herself for the day.  It was quickly agreed between the women, that the child would come with Rennie each morning instead of continuing to subject her to the stress of the daycare.  Neither Naomi, nor Sandy, minded picking up the kids and then driving out to retrieve Elizabeth, but after Jaxon’s realization that Elizabeth got to go to work every day with his Pa, he wanted to go as well.  Fortunately, he did like the swimming, so, the adults were able to barter with the boy.  If he would remain in swim class until the lessons ended later in the summer, they could all spend some time at the Culhane home while picking up Elizabeth.  While the bribe was aimed to appease Jaxon, the time allowed Rennie to take the boy around each day and show him what the crews were working on which quickly became one of his favorite gifts of the day.  It also allowed the girls to play with Denita, and the kids got to see their father more than they did during the school year.  Even with the large remodel taking up some of the yard, there was still plenty of room for the kids to run around and play, as compared to their own neighborhood.  The construction crews even seemed to like the diversion.

Still, it hadn’t taken too long for those brief stays to extend past lunch and often, the worker’s and the kids found themselves eating lunch together on a large wooden picnic table that had been set up under the willow tree.  It would have come as no surprise to anyone, had anyone paid attention to it, that by the start of July, the departure of the Boudreaux children after lunch had become a thing of the past.  It wasn’t so much a conscious change, as it was a natural morphing of the souls involved.  The younger girls loved playing together, Rennie treasured having Jaxon around and vice-versa; the two were nearly inseparable that summer.  Naomi had bonded with Chantelle over her desire to one day become a nurse, Sandy wanted to be a teacher like her own mother, so was relishing the exposure to the younger girls who simply loved to learn anything Sandy could teach them.  Mostly, they would read and write and draw or paint but when the kitchen work was in between remodel steps, she would teach the girls to bake, much to the delight of the workmen.  May Alice loved having the house teeming with such life.  It was just how she remembered it being when she was growing up, less the construction, of course.  Her parents would entertain all summer long, neighbors and kids dropped in often, and they had a large extended family in, and around, town.  Rather than remembering all the times she’d felt lonely during the absences of her parents, she found herself able to recall many, many happy times in the house.  Gone were her childhood apprehensions associated with not fitting in, and her adult ones, regarding the fear of people gawking at her in her wheelchair.  It rarely even crossed her mind to think about her life in New York City.  She would wake, each morning that summer, happy to know what the day ahead held in store for her.  The early mornings when she had her therapy at the YMCA, she would eagerly arrive there and perform her work knowing the rewards that awaited her at her home.  No reward was greater to her than the man responsible for all of it.  She would always know, from that summer on, that Rennie gave her a life worth living.

One of the lesser expected pairings of the little community that summer was that between Elizabeth and May Alice.  Never, in her past, had May Alice felt the urge to have a child of her own.  Even when she’d married, it was such a non-thought, they’d never even brought it up; and being an only child, she had little exposure to children and just assumed, like she did everything else, she would be no good at it.  But one morning, before the other kids had arrived from the Y, a storm had been brewing in the area.  The workmen had stopped construction and had begun tightening down tarps and makeshift barriers to keep the coming rain out of the house.  Eventually, the crews departed, knowing they couldn’t do much more that morning, although it was to be a short squall, lasting half the day.  Rennie had gone into town for more tarps in case the storm was worse than predicted.  Chantelle and Denita were busy preparing lunches for the coming kids, and that was usually about the time Elizabeth would go down for her nap.  However, the noise from the wind and rain, which were loud alone, were even more so because of the lack of several permanent walls and windows.  May Alice could see the child was growing frightened, and just as she moved to reach for her, a loud clap of thunder sounded, startling both of them.  The toddler jerked and immediately began to shiver, but was so stunned by the noise she couldn’t cry, or speak.  May Alice knew that was going to be temporary and, hoping to assuage the terror, reached right out for the girl and wrapped her in a snug hold.  She then reached around Elizabeth’s behind and picked her up and held her tightly in her lap, just as the tears, and her little cries were freed.  May Alice spoke soft words of encouragement to the girl, telling her she knew the girl was scared, but assuring her they would be fine.  She held the girl firmly, but was careful not to squeeze her in case she didn’t want to be held by May Alice.  Not only did Elizabeth not move away from the embrace, she stopped crying only moments after she’d started.  May Alice continued to speak softly to her, trying to distract her by telling her of the good that would come from the rain that was pounding so noisily on the house.  Fortunately, the thunder quickly moved west and was not as deafening.  Within fifteen minutes, Elizabeth had fallen asleep in May Alice’s arms.  The toddler was warm against her, and something about her steady, quiet breathing calmed May Alice.  She found herself contentedly resting her head on the child’s, and lost in the feel and scent of the girl, nearly fell asleep herself.  For the first time in her life, May Alice felt the power behind being the protector of a child.  In that moment, she would have done anything to protect and comfort that little girl.  It afforded her a newfound respect for her own mother, and all the times she’d taken her mother’s embrace for granted.

The kids and Rennie had all returned safely during the storm.  Elizabeth was not easily awakened from her naps anymore, having grown accustomed to construction noises during the weeks since Camp Culhane had opened, so, she continued to sleep, bundled in May Alice’s arms.  In the mix of bodies, all forced into the house that day, and all moving here and there, with sandwiches, and chips and drinks, no one noticed Rennie as he peered around the corner from the kitchen into the living room where May Alice was parked, holding Elizabeth.  He, too, felt some new emotion as he watched May Alice gingerly stroke his baby’s hair while she rested her cheek against the girl’s head.  He thought they looked as natural together as if Elizabeth had been born to May Alice.  He then felt a small sadness that she had not; followed by a bit of shame that he would think such a thing.  Is that what Arlene’s absence had done to him, he wondered?  That thought was interrupted by May Alice’s having sensed Rennie’s presence; she lifted her head from Elizabeth’s and met his eyes with a welcoming smile. 

Rennie moved toward them and whispered to May Alice, “You all right?”

“We’re fine.”  He reached out to remove Elizabeth from her embrace amidst May Alice’s assurances he could leave her, but he continued, leaving May Alice to feel the emptiness as the coolness hit her torso from where the tiny, warm body had been.  Elizabeth stirred a bit, but didn’t wake as Rennie advanced the stairs to place her in the master bedroom that had become her, and Jaxon’s nap room.  He wished, in that moment, that he could lie beside the sleeping child and watch her, and he wished that May Alice would be there with them too.  Instead, he kissed the sleeping girl, covered her with the blanket and returned to the dining room to have lunch with the rest of his kids. 

From that day on, Elizabeth and May Alice had an unspoken bond.  Elizabeth did not cling to May Alice, but at least once a day, the toddler would find her way to May Alice, and the two would spend some time just being together, either by themselves, or with any combination of others, it didn’t matter, it just always happened.  May Alice and Elizabeth’s bonding was likely the more profound of all the ties being bound that summer, but all the children had grown to think of the Culhane house as their home away from home, and May Alice and Chantelle were each like mothers to each of them, in some way.  Still, in the evenings, the kids returned happily to their home with Rennie, and they would play with their neighborhood friends until the sun had set.  Other nights or weekends, some, or all, the girls would spend the night with Denita, and still other nights, any combination of the group, might take to the river for a swamp adventure or fishing.

As the kinetic, organic routine continued through the summer, May Alice had, naturally, come up with an idea for a children’s book.  She had begun by listening to the stories in the books that Sandy would read to the girls.  She would investigate the books that Missy and Sabine and Denita would be reading on their own, and then she would interview each about what they liked, and why.  Yet, most inspiring to her were the reactions on the kids’ faces whenever Rennie told them stories about the bayou.  Rennie had truly been the catalyst for her story, which, not surprisingly, was about two young brothers growing up on the Louisiana bayou.  Her idea was to take Rennie’s tales and write them in a manner that could have a mass appeal for children.  The challenge for her, she knew, would be to write in a manner that could capture some of the enthusiasm Rennie exhibited when telling his stories.  In the evenings, after Rennie and the kids had gone home, May Alice would write some chapters and then try them out on the kids in the following days.  It was a fun process that included all of them.  She loved the idea of exposing children to Cajun culture, which, in turn, illustrated the necessity of the preservation of the river, the swamps and the wildlife.  She approached Acadia early on, and asked her if she would do the illustrations for the stories.  She had watched as Naomi, who had quite her own talent for drawing, had fostered Acadia’s process with drawing and painting.  Of course, the girl was overwhelmed by the idea, but with Naomi’s additional help, she soon found her confidence and embraced the challenge.

Rennie knew the impact May Alice was having on his life, but seeing an equally important effect with his children, he’d all but forgotten his life prior to that summer.  He rarely thought about Arlene or wondered what she was up to.  It even took two days for him to remember to open the document he’d had to sign for, from the court that turned out to be his divorce decree.  It was clear that Rennie had moved on both in his heart and his mind.  He had found his way, with, and for, his children and he hadn’t needed the document to know that. 

With the arrival of the Fourth of July weekend, Rennie and May Alice would again, unexpectedly cross another emotional bridge together.  The families had planned to attend the Lafayette Parish County Fair and rodeo on Saturday the third.  It was big event that nearly everyone in town and around attended.  As such, kids of all ages roamed freely without formal chaperones, as everyone collectively watched over them.  Still, Elizabeth and Jaxon were a little young to roam freely and as dusk came, Naomi, who had also been attending the fair that day and whose date fell ill, offered to take them home and sit with them for the rest of the evening.  Chantelle had met up with Sugar and they were heading off to a dance on the grounds.  Denita was staying the night with Dr. Blades, who had come to visit for the weekend and was staying in a hotel in town that had a pool she wanted to play in.  Rennie’s older girls had been adopted again, by the Jenkins’, who promised to have them home by 11:00.  Happy to finally have time alone together, May Alice cursed the fact that she was exhausted.  The day had been tough for her, it was hot and long, and the facilities on the fairgrounds left much to be desired.  Rennie could see she was tired and without asking, he simply wheeled her to his truck and loaded her into it.  “I’ll get you home,” he said.

“Thank you”, she responded, gratefully.  As they drove, the air conditioner in his truck provided her much relief and actually granted her a second wind by the time they’d gotten to her house.  They sat in the dark in the kitchen in effort to keep it a little cooler, and when they’d finished drinking the iced tea she’d made for them, she asked Rennie to move her on to the window seat in the living room where they could have some illumination from the porch light.  He moved her to the wide platform and she asked him to sit with her there.  He moved behind her with his arms around her and she leaned back against him, finally able to enjoy being there alone.  Soon, she was overcome by the feel of him, of being in his arms, and she turned her face back toward his, seeing he was moving to do the same.  Their mouths met in a warm, deep kiss.  She reached an arm up and around to his neck, leaving his hand to find her breast.  She moaned into his mouth as he touched her and soon they were engaged in a heated exchange of kisses, amassed with, both, soft touches, and outright groping.  Rennie quickly maneuvered from being behind her to being on top of her.  He was trailing kisses from her jaw down her neck toward her breasts, replacing a kneading hand with his mouth.  May Alice gasped and arched her back instinctively toward him.  Stifled by her clothing, he stopped long enough to unbutton her blouse and unhook her bra, which, he was elated to find, fastened in the front.  He returned to his exploration to the body he’d longed to make love to for months.  Quickly overtaken by the sensations of Rennie’s hands and mouth on her, and her ability to feel his weight between her legs, her moans became deeper and he heard her whispering his name between them.  Suddenly, he stopped everything he was doing.

“What?  Why are you stopping?  Don’t stop,” she pleaded, confused by his inaction.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” he said softly, “hurried, and in a window.  I want you in your bed, where we can take our time and I can wake up with you in the morning.” 

“Oh, God, Rennie, are you kidding me?” she said breathlessly, “I don’t have a bed, remember?”

He didn’t continue.  She couldn’t believe he was ruining this moment.  Instead, he lifted himself off of her, and said, “You have a bed.”  He picked her up and carried her up the stairs and down the hallway to the master suite in the house.  He laid her on it, fully removed her top, her bra, and started on her shorts, which he did while starting the kissing again.  As he stopped a moment to work her shorts and panties, she grabbed the sides of his shirt and pulled it over his head as he descended her legs.  Once he’d finished and she was naked under him, he rose to his feet and removed his pants and boots.  May Alice pulled herself up on her elbows to watch him, and when he’d finished, he again positioned himself between her legs, but this time, he lifted her legs on top of his thighs, allowing him access, and hoping the visual stimulation would aid her where sensation was missing.  He kissed her mouth and body more, and then returned to the caressing of her breasts.  He voiced to her how soft she was in his hands and he confessed how long he’d wanted to know what she felt like and how he imagined she would taste.  Her moans were acceptance of his desires, and soon he entered her, and described for her how her body felt around him.  She was hot, and she could tell from the movement her body had been ready for him, and was working to accommodate him.  He was pushing into her rhythmically, slowly at first, and then as he continued, and his pace increased, she could feel the movement from her waist up, it rocked her and moved her breasts in time with him.  As he neared his peak, she too, felt the intense wave of heat rushing up through her torso and up to her scalp.  She climaxed with him, leaving both their bodies with a glistening, heated shudder.  He remained on top of her, holding her tightly until she stopped shaking.  He looked into her eyes and pressed his mouth to hers for another lingering, deep kiss.  He then pulled away from her, and moved her legs into a more comfortable position.  He pulled the linens on the bed back and then covered her with the sheet, and she shifted to lay on her side, while he moved behind her and put his arms around her waist and placed kisses on her shoulder.  He felt her relax into him and soon they were asleep.

May Alice awakened some time later with a start.  She knew exactly where she was and that Rennie was still wrapped around her.  “Rennie,” she spoke, “you have to go; the kids.”

He pressed his body into her but did not move to rise.  “I took care of it, they’re fine.” 

She was puzzled and convinced herself he must still be asleep; she could not tell what time it was.  She spoke a little more firmly, to roust him from sleep.  “What do you mean, you took care of it?”

He still didn’t move much but kissed her neck and said, “Naomi is staying the night, she locked herself out of her house and her folks won’t be home until morning; she was staying with us anyway, so, she said not to rush home if I didn’t want to.”  He nuzzled his nose into her hair.  He sounded coherent so she had cause to believe he was not dreaming.  How had she missed the conversation with Naomi?  Then she realized he would not be leaving; they could spend the entire night together.  She became fully aware again of his body pressed against hers.  She reached for the hand that was resting across her pelvis and guided it toward her breast as she turned her head and kissed his mouth.  He needed little encouragement; he kissed her, harder than before, and he didn’t spend as much time caressing her breasts and torso.  She felt him becoming hot and hard against her back and she pushed into him as if there were any space to fill between them.  She felt him move slightly in the bed, kissing and licking her back as he moved down her spine.  The sheet covering them was pulled away, and with the light of the moon shining through the bedroom window, she could see he was bending the leg she was not lying on, at the knee.  She felt him lift her hips just slightly, and having lost the feel of his erection on her back, she knew he must be entering her from behind.  As soon as he had, he began moving against her, quickly picking up the movement with more force than their time before.  He was groaning, and again, she was happy that her body was able to pleasure his.  She was mystified at how erotic this was in spite of the absence of her actually feeling him where she wanted to most.  She held his arms, which were wrapped tightly around her torso grounding him and she and rode the motion with him, focusing on the sounds coming from him, hoping for a reaction of her own.  She was not so lucky that time.  She wasn’t upset; she enjoyed that Rennie enjoyed her, and that was something.  Once his breathing had steadied and he had quieted, he moved from behind her, turned her from her side on to her back and looked at her face in the moonlight.  She smiled up at him, but he seemed lost.

“What is it?” she whispered to him.

“I wanted you to feel it too; I should have paid more attention, I’m . . .”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips and said, “Don’t say you’re sorry.” 

He didn’t continue, but he was sad, he felt as though he’d taken advantage of her and he’d never have done that to any woman, especially not this one.  _This one_ . . . his thoughts trailed, and as he looked again, at her face in the moonlight, and saw her smile, he said, “I love you.  I think I have always loved you.”


	26. 26

**Chapter 26 (Mild M Rate)**

May Alice shuddered with his words; they affected her more than any orgasm would have and she was overcome by emotion.  She knew he would never say such a thing if he didn’t absolutely believe it.  What had she ever done to deserve that kind of reward?  The love of this man; it was too much.  She started to shed tears and worried he would misunderstand their meaning, but she could not speak just then.  She let the tears flow, and to her relief, Rennie just let her cry.  He hung his head a moment but she reached for his chin and held it back up while she searched for words that could even come close to telling him all she was feeling in that moment.  Finally, she let the words flow like she did her tears.  “I thought I loved a man once.  I believed I meant it when I said it to him, I even made a vow.  But I understand now how mistaken I was about that.  What I felt for him doesn’t belong in the same universe compared to what I feel for you.  I know, now more than ever, how wrong I was.  What I love, Rennie,” her voice hitched in her throat, “is you.”  She emphasized the word love to him, hoping he could believe her; hoping he could understand that if she died tonight, her life would finally have meant something to her. 

He looked at her and smiled.  She was unable to say more.  He didn’t need her to say more, he believed now, they would have the rest of their lives to say more, and that suited him just fine.  She whimpered a bit more and he rolled to his back and pulled her along with him to rest her head on his warm chest.  As he stroked her hair, he hoped by holding her there, the sureness he felt about them would seep out of his heart and right into hers.  His breathing was steady, assured in the love they shared and it soothed her and she soon fell asleep believing nothing bad would ever happen to her again.

When she next awoke, the sunrise had replaced the beautiful moonlight of their first night together.  She lifted her head and kissed him softly on the chest.  His hands reached into her hair and down her bare shoulders.  She lifted to kiss him on the mouth and soon they were reveling again in a heated exchange of deep kisses and slow caresses.  Her hands followed her kisses down his torso until she had moved low enough to engage his newest erection with her mouth.  She took him in and imagined what he felt like between her legs, using her only means to simulate it.  She drank him in and longed for him with every touch, taste and stroke.  It was the most intense feeling both had ever experienced with that method of lovemaking.  His eventual release into her brought with it an equally powerful orgasm, the likes of which he’d never have thought possible.  It rendered him speechless and motionless, less the tremor, and fervent heat running throughout his body.  May Alice was pleased with the obvious result.  She’d wanted him to know how much she needed to feel him that way, and with his grateful reaction she believed she made him understand.  They laid together in silence and slumber for another hour, when they were roused fully awake by the arrival of Chantelle.  Neither had wanted those hours to end so neither thought about what would come next.  With the opening of the front door, May Alice lifted her head, which had found its way back to Rennie’s chest earlier, and looked at him with the expression of a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  They both laughed at their silliness, but they truly had no idea what to do next. 

Chantelle had seen Rennie’s truck in the drive and wondered why he’d arrived so early on a Sunday morning.  As soon as she entered the house and realized there were no kids around, her curiosity was piqued.  She made her way toward the den where May Alice had been sleeping in the weeks of the remodel and found it empty, save for her wheelchair.  It began dawning on her what may have occurred and if it were true, she would be happy for her friends, but in no way was she actually prepared to find them in bed together.  She proceeded up the stairs and into her room where she gathered her things and headed to her bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.  She was sure to be a little louder than she needed to be, to alert them of her presence, in case anything was happening that no one else needed to see.  Once she had finished her morning routine, she opened the bathroom door and heard voices downstairs.  Relieved for that she proceeded downstairs and into the kitchen, where a fully clothed Rennie was placing bread in the toaster, and a robed May Alice was in her wheelchair and scrambling eggs.

“Good morning,” Chantelle said.  Both May Alice and Rennie both responded in kind.  “Is everything all right?” she asked.  She was silently very curious about where the kids were, and how the two came to be alone, overnight but didn’t want to be too obvious.

May Alice answered, surprised by the question, “Of course, why?”  Then she surmised what Chantelle was really asking.  She immediately began to blush and had to turn back toward the stove.

Rennie, feeling nothing of the same answered, “Naomi is with the kids.”

“Ah,” was all Chantelle needed to respond.  The trio ate breakfast together and talked about the different things everyone participated in at the fair the evening prior.  They talked with excitement about that evening’s fireworks display, also happening at the fairgrounds, and where all the families would congregate again for another night’s entertainment. 

Chantelle noticed a new intimacy between May Alice and Rennie which answered any question she may have had about the previous evening.  Again, she was happy for the pair, but a little worried about the progression into the physical for them.  She knew they loved each other, probably before either of them did, but she also knew that loving someone and being with them was not always the good thing it should be.  For all she and May Alice knew, Rennie was still married to Arlene and she could always decide to return.  _What then?_   The more she thought, the more she worried. 

May Alice picked up on her friend’s apprehension.  She began to dry the dishes Chantelle was washing and said quietly, “I know it won’t be easy.” 

Chantelle stopped washing, looked at May Alice and said, “I hope it is though.”

Aside from a little more public affection between Rennie and May Alice, the routine following their first night together remained mostly intact in the weeks that followed.  The remodel continued and the kids inundated the Culhane home during the days, weekends, and sometimes overnight.  Reading, writing and drawing continued, as did, swim lessons, and physical therapy. 

The only big change was that on Saturday mornings, Chantelle began taking the kids, Denita included, to the library, allowing Rennie and May Alice time together.  Often the couple made love at home, and other times, they’d spend the morning together fishing on the river.  Their love for one another continued to deepen, right along with the love the children were growing for Chantelle, Denita, and May Alice.  Elizabeth had become so attached to May Alice in those weeks she had, on several occasions been heard to call her “Mama.”  Sabine seemed bothered by that at times, but no one corrected Elizabeth. 

One afternoon while the toddler was napping, May Alice explained to the older girls, “I don’t intend to be Elizabeth’s mother, she has a mother, but I will mother her because I think she needs that.” 

The girls couldn’t deny the comfort Elizabeth felt because they had all felt it too, on some occasion.  May Alice had a way of communicating with each of them that made them feel like they were being understood and appreciated.  She would ask for their input on decisions that involved them, which made them feel less like children; and at the same time, she could pick up on their periodic sadness and could talk them each past it, like they imagined their mother might do.  She was teaching Elizabeth to read, she had been the only one to finally get her successfully potty-trained, and she was the only one who could get the girl down for a nap.  Acadia, Sabine and Missy all had birthdays one month apart, May, June and July, and for each, May Alice had made sure each had their own special day, where they were made the focus of attention.  Each got to pick the kind of cake they wanted, and she, or Chantelle would bake it and let the birthday girl decorate it any way she wished.  Perhaps the most meaningful thing she did, they would all agree, was write them a short story, with each being the protagonist.  The story would be presented, complete with illustrations by Acadia, on their birthday where May Alice would read the story aloud to everyone, acting out ever role expertly.  The kids would howl with laughter when she would imitate, to a tee, whichever of the girl’s the story was about.  All these things served to introduce the kids to a life that seemed like what all other families had, and they liked that.  Eventually, Elizabeth, possibly with some encouragement from Sabine, had begun to refer to her surrogate as “Miss Ma”, and not long after, each of the girls found themselves doing the same. 

The perfect, pivotal, summer had gone well and only, twice, was interrupted by events that had been put in motion long before. 

The first Saturday in August, May Alice and Rennie had spent their private morning together on the river.  Rennie had found a new secluded cove far up one arm of the Mississippi they’d only been to once before.  On the way up, Rennie noticed May Alice was quieter than usual, but he was more distracted by watching her, long hair blowing freely in the breeze.  He liked that, for whatever reason, she had not kept the short, stylish hair cut she had when she first returned to Lafayette.  His position above her, in the boat, allowed him a peek down her blouse whenever the wind hit just right.  He was thoroughly enjoying the view.  By the time they arrived, and he had moved May Alice from the boat to a blanket on the shady shore like usual, the last thing on his mind was her stillness or fishing.  He laid her down on the blanket and immediately began kissing her.  She reciprocated and they were well on their way to more exploration when she suddenly stopped.  Her body grew rigid and Rennie immediately pulled his torso upward from her body to see her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, apologetically as she tried to nudge him off her.

“What is it?  Did I do something?” he asked, fearing he must have hurt her. 

She stopped the nudging but he was already panicked and lifting himself off her.  He covered her bare chest with her blouse and she drew her arms up, forearms covering her face, and her hands resting lightly in her hair while she let out a deep breath.  After a moment, she moved her arms, exposing her face to him.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she said with a small smile, “you know how much I love you,” he nodded acknowledgement, as she did, too, then she finished, “you’re still a married man, Rennie.  I have everything to lose, here.” ~~~~

He felt like a complete idiot. _Have I never told her?_   He laughed at the absurdity, but realized, that was the case.  His laugh did not go over well with her.  She was hurt by it, as, she had spent the better part of many days worrying about her growing affection for Rennie’s children, and the ease in which they’d all become their own kind of family.  She did know Rennie loved her, and she did know he preferred to be with her, but she had trusted her heart before and had been, very, wrong.  Doubt, hand-in-hand with elation, had grown exponentially, with every day they spent together, with every kiss Rennie showered upon her, and with every touch between them.  To see him laugh it off, confused her, and she began to get angry.  “It’s not funny,” she whispered, and looked away, fighting back the emotion.

He quickly understood, and reached for her chin, to turn her face back toward his.  “No; it isn’t,” he said, with sincerity.  Then he took her hand in his, and continued, “I am not a married man; not in my heart, and not legally.  Not since,” he had to stop and remind himself when that had happened.  “The spring.  You were away and, I guess, it just felt so natural, I didn’t think to bring it up.  I am so sorry.”

She apologized, too.  “I didn’t even realize how worried I’d been, until I just stopped us.  I know it seems stupid, to bring it up now, like the damage wasn’t already done.”  Then his words actually sunk in, _he is not married;_ he had not been married, even the first time they’d made love.  To be certain, she repeated it, “You’re not married.”

He smiled, “I’m not.” 

She immediately reached for him and kissed him with a fervor she’d not before, excited for, yet, another sexual adventure with him; that time, free of the buried worry she’d harbored over the possibility of his, one day, returning to his marriage.  They enjoyed one another, throughout entire morning, and even arrived home an hour later than usual.

When they entered the house, the kids were just clearing the table from lunch, and Missy blurted out, “A man sent Miss Ma flowers!  Was it you, Pa?!  Miss Chantelle won’t tell us.” 

“Is it your birthday?” Sabine asked, equally excited by the delivery.  It was no wonder that when Rennie saw the size of the bouquet, and knew he’d not sent it, he became very, very intimidated.  It was massive, like nothing he’d ever seen in the florist’s shop. 

May Alice was impressed, even though she knew, of course, who would send such a display.  For all their intimacy, both emotional and physical, she had never told Rennie anything more about Bennett Marley.  In her summer bliss she’d completely forgotten about Ben, New York, and the play.  That seemed like light years in the past and she was having trouble bridging the gap right then.  She looked at Rennie trying to gauge his reaction.  He looked embarrassed.  The girls continued their inquisition about the flowers; who were they from, what kind were they, why were they sent, where did one even find such a bunch of flowers, and how did they get there? 

Unable to stand the foreign looks on Rennie’s face May Alice answered, “Girls, they are not from your Pa, and it’s not my birthday.  These are from a friend of mine, in New York City, who likes one of my stories.”  She turned to address Rennie.  “My play opens tonight,” she said with a small smile.  

Rennie was somewhat relieved, but quickly that relief turned to sadness as he realized he’d been so selfish that he had not thought about, or even asked about, her play, or about the fact that she was obviously missing its opening.  He knew this had to be a very big deal for her, and he’d completely forgotten all about it.  “I didn’t realize,” he started.

She touched his hand and said, “It’s all right, you couldn’t have known.”  She rolled away from him to the arrangement and pulled the card to read it while the girls reexamined the various colors and varieties of flowers in the arrangement.  After seeing the words written on it, May Alice smiled and tucked the card away in her back pocket. Rennie watched from the kitchen as he made a plate for himself and May Alice.  When he saw the smile on her face and the tucking away of the card, he knew in his heart that man was more than just the man who purchased the production rights to her play.  His belief was confirmed when, Denita, remembering then, the incredible Mr. Marley from New York, told the girls of the finery of the man who had taken May Alice to dinner.  She recapped how he’d shown up with large bouquets, even one for her mommy, and included how he gave her, her very own rose, and kissed her hand, and had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.  Everyone laughed when Denita finished with, “and he smelled _soooo_ good.” 

May Alice looked at Rennie, trying to silently apologize for not telling him everything, and he looked back trying to say it didn’t matter.  Soon both were lost in memories of their morning together, and the other mornings, and that one, really great evening.  When next their eyes met, May Alice reached over for his hand and he leaned in and kissed her.  Following that brief, and awkward resurfacing of May Alice’s past, the routine of the families had continued on with little change until the next interruption that summer presented itself. 

The second event, that they should have known would come, but were too lost in their idyllic, fleeting circumstances to plan for, came as result of Rennie’s past.  The telephone rang early one Thursday morning in mid-August.  Rennie answered, and was met with the voice of Deacon Leon.  The deacon explained he was in town and wished to meet with Rennie, if possible.  Rennie assumed the man would inquire about his status, and the well-being of his children, probably on Arlene’s behalf, and he decided that was a good thing, if it were true.  It turned out to be that, and much more.  Rennie learned, that same day at lunch, that the deacon had returned Arlene to Lafayette the day prior.  He explained that the Mother Superior serving the Cathedral of St. John’s was in need of an assistant.  Word went out to the other parishes in, and around, Louisiana and knowing that Arlene would need to return to Lafayette sooner than later, the deacon explained the obvious benefits of Arlene providing the service.  She would receive a small salary to assist the Mother Superior with her schedule and would act as a dormitory administrator for the resident order of the sister’s associated with the parish and the Cathedral Carmel School.  The latter also included free room and board, which was necessary now that she and Rennie were divorced.  She received alimony in the settlement but could not afford to live off just that money.  Serving the parish would allow her to keep up the Catholic studies she’d delved into with the assistance of the deacon and his wife.  It was, Deacon Leon would say, a sign from God that it was time for Arlene to return and start being a mother to her children once again.  Rennie was still trying to process all that he’d just heard when the deacon finished with, “So, I am asking you when you might be prepared to allow Arlene to start seeing the children again?” 

While Rennie had been awarded immediate custodial guardianship of the children for the duration of Arlene’s probation, the divorce decree noted the two would have joint custody.  At the time, Rennie had not wanted to keep Arlene from the children, and even when he got past the shock of the day’s news, he would still feel the same about that.  Still, he loved what he and the kids had become in her absence.  The thought that Arlene might never understand the life they were living now was a threat.  He understood that this perfect summer was transitory, soon the kids would be returning to school and the remodel was nearly complete, which meant his excuse for being with May Alice every day would be gone, but he was not ready for it to be over.  Deacon Leon could see Rennie’s silent struggle.  He offered some thoughtful words, told Rennie he would be in town until Sunday, and asked him to just think about the allowance of Arlene, and he offered his counsel, “anytime, night or day.”  The deacon understood that Arlene’s return would have as much impact on the family as her departure had.  Rennie thanked him and assured him he would be in touch.

As Rennie drove away from the diner where the men had met, he began wondering how the children would feel.  He truly had no idea.  With May Alice and Chantelle’s help, they all seemed happy.  He had bonded with Jaxon in a way that he knew he never would have had Arlene not left.  May Alice had fostered them creatively, and emotionally, in ways Arlene never would have; did she even know that Acadia could draw?  That Missy and Sabine loved to read mystery books?  That Jaxon was fearless in the swamp?  And Elizabeth . . . he found it impossible to separate her now from memories of May Alice with her.  He remembered the first time he watched her holding the girl, sheltering her from the storm, the first of several they experienced that summer.  He remembered all the times since, whenever Elizabeth was not at her side, May Alice was always looking, always cognizant of where the girl was and making certain she was being cared for and was safe.  He couldn’t recall ever seeing Elizabeth laughing with Arlene, something she did nearly every day with May Alice.  By the time he arrived at the entrance to his favorite driveway, he was as lost as ever on how to approach this subject with his family.  He was greeted by Jaxon who had, that day, completed his swim class and was eagerly waving his certificate of completion to show his Pa.  He picked up the boy, hugged and praised him, and they walked together into the house to greet May Alice as the others departed for the backyard.  She knew immediately something was going on with Rennie and his lingering embrace with her confirmed it.  He always hugged and kissed her when he arrived in the mornings, and this morning was no exception, but his embracing her tightly right then, following what was to have been a business meeting, was certainly cause for concern.  She held him and asked, “Everything all right?” knowing it wasn’t, but giving him the opportunity to discuss it, or not. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, offering her a small smile as he’d finally released his hold on her.  “Arlene is coming back.”


	27. 27

**Chapter 27**

Rennie couldn’t sleep.  He longed to be with May Alice every night, but that night, it was never more so.  He needed her touch, her assurance that everything would be all right.  They had been unable to discuss the news about Arlene’s return in private so they didn’t tell the kids that day.  Once he convinced May Alice he needed her help in telling them, they agreed they’d sleep on it, and find some time alone the next day to figure an approach.  He practiced various ways of presenting the idea to the kids but every time he did, he realized all other things that needed to be considered.  Their mother was returning, but not to their home – how to explain that?  She was living at a church, but not the same church they had all known - why?  If their Maw wasn’t going to live at home - when would they see her?  How would any of it affect their relationship with May Alice?  He had no answers to any of those questions.  It was overwhelming, and Rennie became upset that, once again, Arlene’s actions had him fielding the reactions, with no support from her.  He had the urge to call May Alice but it was late and he didn’t want to wake her.  He mentally kissed her goodnight and, still unable to sleep, moved to his kitchen and began putting the dishes in the dishwasher away.  Eventually he remembered his friend, Deacon Leon, and his offer to be of assistance.  He found the note the deacon had left with him and dialed the number. 

They spoke for over an hour.  As with the times before, in the presence of this kind man, Rennie found his words flowed easily with no fear of judgement about his hurt, anger, and worry.  That was, until he found himself confessing that he’d fallen in love with May Alice.  He didn’t elaborate on the physical nature their relationship had taken, but focused, instead, on the emotional intimacy he’d found with her.  At first, he believed Deacon Leon seemed to understand; he remained as non-judgmental as he always had been.  However, just before they hung up for the evening, the deacon recommended they not tell Arlene about May Alice just yet.  Rennie agreed, as it meant he wouldn’t, yet, have to risk Arlene’s reaction to his having moved on with another woman, and he might come away with some answers to the inevitable questions the children would have about the return of their mother.  As for Deacon Leon, he hoped Rennie was only experiencing rebound and would come to his senses once Arlene was back in the fold.  The men had agreed that it might be of benefit for the deacon to brief Arlene, first, on the nature of her family’s current situation, less the part about another woman, then, the three of them would meet Monday morning to determine what level of involvement Arlene was expecting compared to what Rennie might allow. 

May Alice was touched that Rennie wanted to include her in the decision about how to tell his kids their mother was coming back and wanted to share in their lives again.  Still, she tried not to be too involved, feeling it really was not her place.  After all, she had fallen in love with the woman’s husband, and she was falling in love with their children, she really didn’t think there was one thing, about either of those facts, Arlene would appreciate.  She didn’t want to be the cause of any more drama in Rennie’s life.  As she lay awake that night, alone in her new bed, in her newly completed spacious master suite, she tried to think about how the kids would react.  Jaxon wouldn’t care either way, as long as he had Rennie; Missy loved everyone, and she’d like having her mother back; Sabine and Acadia were wildcards.  She knew Sabine was apprehensive about May Alice’s being with Elizabeth so much, but she seemed to have been all right since the time May Alice confirmed that she knew her place with them.  Sabine had also asked to stay over some nights, with, or without the other girls doing so too, and on those nights, when it was just her staying, she would start out in the bunk in Denita’s room, but she often ended up with May Alice on that uncomfortable antique couch.  As for Acadia, it seemed she never forgot that Arlene did not abide by her means of recovery. 

For that matter, neither had May Alice; she recalled one afternoon, months before, when Acadia brought it up to her.  _The two of them had ended up alone in the house, Acadia painting, and May Alice working on the surprise story that would become Acadia’s birthday present later that month.  She saw Acadia stop painting and make her way over to her at the computer.  “Miss May Alice,” she’d started, “where is your Maw?”_

_“My mother died some years ago.”_

_“And, your_ P _a?” she’d asked, pivoting side to side on her heel while holding the handle on the back of May Alice’s wheelchair._

_“He died, with my mother; they were in an accident.”_

_The girl stopped pivoting, and her eyes grew wide, “I never heard of someone losing both their Maw and Pa at the same time!  I think that’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”  May Alice nodded and offered a small smile, in effort to let the girl know, while it was sad, she was all right.   After a moment of silence, Acadia continued, “and then, you were in an accident too.”_

_“Yes,” May Alice answered.  Wondering where this was going, she turned in her chair to face the girl at her side._

_Acadia continued, “Did you think you were going to die when you had your accident?”_

_Not having been around young children much before, May Alice had no idea what an advanced concept might be for a, soon to be, twelve-year-old but she thought that certainly had to be one.  Not to mention, she’d never even thought about what she’d thought when she got hit by the cab; it was interesting to be asked, and astonishing being asked it by a child.  She had to really think about the girl’s question.  She recalled, she had not been unconscious, she was not in pain, “No, I don’t think I did,” she finally surmised._

_“You weren’t scared?”_

_“I was scared, sure.  I couldn’t move and I remember I was worried that I’d ruined my coat; isn’t that silly?”_

_Acadia was very serious, she didn’t acknowledge the question, and instead, continued with what she must have really wanted to talk about.  “I thought I might die once.  I was scared.”_

_May Alice reached for the girl’s hands and held them in hers.  She looked her directly in the eyes and said, “I am so sorry you had to think that, honey; and I know everyone else was scared too.”_

_“Do you think your Maw would have been happy you didn’t die?”_

_Fascinated again by the girl’s thought process, and where the conversation was taking them, May Alice nodded and said a slow, “Yeah.”_

_“My Maw would think you were a demon,” Acadia declared.  May Alice mentally laughed about that, knowing the girl was right, but not likely for the same reason Acadia might be thinking.  When May Alice asked her why she would think that, Acadia said, “Because doctors made you better, not God.  That’s why she left me, too.  She thinks I’m a demon, and Pa is too because he let me be saved.”  May Alice was so stunned by the revelation of the girl’s belief, she’d had to let go of her little hands to keep from squeezing them too hard.  Maybe she’d heard that incorrectly, she’d hoped?_

_To be certain, she asked, “Acadia, you think your mother left because of you?”_

_“Of course,” her answer, coupled with her matter-of-fact tone, caused May Alice’s heart to break.  Is this what the poor girl had been living with this whole time?  To her amazement, Acadia continued on, “But you know Miss May Alice, I’ve watched you, and I don’t think it’s true; I don’t think you are a demon, and I don’t think I am one; my Pa don’t think so neither.  What do you think?”_

_May Alice’s first thought was wondering if Rennie had any idea about this.  In their many discussions about the family, and the effect Arlene’s absence had caused, he’d never mentioned anything like this to her.  She was working to take it all in, keep her cool, and find a way to answer without unloading on the girl about her mother.  She wanted to be eloquent and say something the girl could believe.  “I think that God works in many ways,” she’d said honestly.  “If He had decided it was my, or your, time to go, I think we’d not be here today.  And, God created those doctors who saved us, right?”  The girl nodded.  “Your mother is simply mistaken.  I think she realized that, and it’s why she took you back to the hospital in Baton Rouge.”  Acadia seemed to have forgotten about that, and the reminder intrigued her, and she asked May Alice why else her Maw would have left them.  “I can’t know for sure, but maybe she was unhappy about other things and just needed time away so you’d not see her that way.”  It was a lie; May Alice absolutely knew that Arlene left because she’d chosen her religion over her family, but she also knew, absolutely, she would lay down her own life before she’d let those children know it._

_“I don’t think you would leave, if you were our Maw,” Acadia said._

_May Alice hadn’t needed to think about that; she’d thought about it many times up to then.  She took one of Acadia’s hands back into hers, and answered with conviction, “I would not, and I would never, ever, think you a demon.  You are a loving, smart girl and I would have been honored to have been your Maw.”  It was a cheap shot at Arlene she knew, but she’d seen the hurt the woman’s actions had caused this family and she just couldn’t stop herself._

_Acadia smiled, and reached out, and hugged May Alice around her neck.  They embraced for only a moment when Acadia said, “You would be a good Maw,” and she turned from May Alice and returned to her painting_. 

They hadn’t discussed any of it since, but the memory served May Alice well in the months that had followed, and it was enough right then to leave her hopeful for Acadia’s future with her mother.  That left only Elizabeth to wonder about.  May Alice was disheartened that the little girl she’d become so attached to, might no longer be needing her.  It was a selfish thought she knew; how could she not be happy for the child?  Still, it was an unfair, and crushing, realization, and with it, she was finally overcome by the enormity of those simple little words had Rennie said to her earlier in the day, _Arlene is coming back_.  With that, she let her emotions flow, and mercifully sobbed herself into a deep sleep. 

The following morning, May Alice awakened refreshed.  Her emotional surrender the evening before had proved cathartic, and she felt she might be able to face the days to come with unexpected courage.  In route to the Y for her therapy, she briefed Chantelle on the impending return of Arlene and they discussed many possible implications.  In so doing, it dawned on May Alice that she had not really checked in with Chantelle, to learn how she was feeling knowing that Denita would soon be returning to Chicago, on top of all the other things that would be changing for them with the coming of autumn. 

“Why don’t we get breakfast after?” she suggested.  “We haven’t really spent any time together just you and me.”  It was an unusual request but Chantelle felt like maybe May Alice needed to talk so she agreed.

Following the therapy session, the women headed to a new diner that had opened near the middle school.  When they arrived, there was no parking in front of the place, but there was a loading zone, so Chantelle parked in it long enough to get May Alice out of the car and sent her in to find a comfortable table.  She said she’d be along after she called the house to let Sandy and Denita know they’d be returning a little later than usual.  May Alice entered the diner and was greeted right away by a hostess who assured her she could find room for the wheelchair if May Alice didn’t mind giving her a few minutes.  There was another person standing in the area, but May Alice had not paid any more attention to her than the other patrons in the diner until, after only a few moments, she sensed the person approaching her from the side. 

The loitering woman said, “You’re much prettier than I remember.”

Out of habit, May Alice surmised it would be a former fan, and unsure if she’d just been complimented or not, she turned and responded, “Thank you?”  Immediately, she recognized the face. 

“Oh, my manners!” the woman exclaimed, realizing her backhanded comment, “I didn’t mean you weren’t pretty, I just . . . the first time I saw you, I hadn’t really paid much attention.” Then she extended her hand to May Alice and continued, “I’m Arlene Boudreaux, Rennie’s wife?” 

"I remember," _but do you_ , she wanted to say, but said, instead, "Hello," as they shook hands.

“Hello,” Arlene repeated, struggling to move on from the awkwardly worded compliment she’d started with.  “Uh, so, you seem to be getting along just fine.”  May Alice only nodded, so Arlene continued, “Do you still see Rennie?”  May Alice’s face felt like it was melting with the firestorm of emotions suddenly running through her but afraid to blush, and show her cards, she summoned her best acting techniques and composed herself.

“I do,” she answered.  _And how_ , she thought.  She smiled at her wickedness, which fortunately, went unnoticed by Arlene. 

“Oh, so, then you probably know, I’ve been gone for a while,” Arlene stated.

“He mentioned it, yes.  So, you’re back?”

“I am.  I am helping out, right around the corner there at St. John’s, and getting ready to get my kids back to school.”

“I see,” May Alice said politely.  She knew Arlene was making conversation and had no way of knowing who she was really speaking to, but she was squirming over the casual nature Arlene was showing.  Her mind was screaming, _Getting your kids ready for school?  Did you forget the part where you completely abandoned them at Christmas?  Because I sure as hell didn’t._  

She silently begged for Chantelle to arrive and keep her from saying anything aloud that she shouldn’t.  Still, she cut the woman some slack because she was mystified by the physical change in Arlene.  This appeared to be a confident, sane woman.  Nothing like the introverted, disheveled, stressed one she’d seen in a different diner just eleven months before.  If May Alice hadn’t have known who she was, or what she’d done, she might have considered liking this woman.

“Well, I won’t keep you.  I’m just picking up an order for the bible study group,” Arlene said, “I just thought I’d say hi.  Maybe I’ll be seeing you around?”

Again May Alice nodded, afraid to let her mouth run too much, and replied simply, “You never know.”

Just then, a waitress carrying a box approached, and said to Arlene, “Picking up for St. John’s?”  The hostess, had also returned and motioned for May Alice to follow her to the space she’d prepared.  When Chantelle arrived at the table a few minutes later, she sat, while saying she’d contacted the girls and everything was fine at the house.  She noticed a very unusual look on May Alice’s face and she couldn’t quite decipher it.  “What?” she asked.

“It seems Rennie was mistaken about Arlene coming back.  She _is_ back, and you just missed her.”  The odd expression had not changed with the statement and Chantelle decided it was some mix of mischief and shock. 

“Well,” Chantelle said, looking around the diner, “I don’t see any scorch marks, so I guess you let her live?”

“For the moment,” May Alice answered, and then she smiled that wicked smile she’d hidden from Arlene, and the women laughed, mostly not knowing what else to do. 

With that, May Alice let the encounter go.  She really wanted to discuss Chantelle and Denita, and she was pleased by the thought that, with absurdity seeming to follow her like sheep, there would be plenty more chances to think up ways to torture Arlene.  She approached Chantelle gingerly about Denita, and Chantelle assured her she’d known, going into the summer, that she would have to let her child go again in the fall.  She admitted it was going to be more difficult than she could have imagined, but she had to believe it was temporary; that one day, hopefully, sooner than later, her father could be convinced she was healthy and could be trusted with her own daughter again.  May Alice seemed genuinely concerned and empathetic, and Chantelle was touched that in the midst of her own turmoil, she had made this time to talk with her. 

In response, she said, “I don’t think I ever thanked you for letting her come and stay.”

“You don’t need to thank me.  It is my pleasure, truly.  She’s an amazing girl and I am happy to have her.”  They finished breakfast, revisiting the many changes, both literally and figuratively, to the Culhane home in one short year, and they agreed, in spite of themselves, they had been quite blessed.


	28. 28

**Chapter 28**

Friday afternoon Rennie learned, from a mockingly annoyed May Alice, that she’d run into Arlene that morning.  She assured him the meeting was innocuous and not worth rehashing.  She simply chided him on his not knowing the difference between someone coming back, and someone being back. 

Rennie was relieved, and a little suspicious, but had too much on his mind to worry about the latter.  He explained his discussion with Deacon Leon the previous night.  She wanted to bow out of the plans to tell the kids together, knowing the deacon would prove a sound, skilled, third party to offer him advice, but Rennie explained his desire to include her.  “This affects us,” he said. 

She had not recalled that word coming from him before, _us_.  She liked the sound of that, and she reached for him, and kissed him on the lips to let him know.  “Then I guess _we_ should start with the basics.” 

The basics were, they knew the girls would return to school after the Labor Day weekend.  The last part of the remodel, the finishing touches in the kitchen, was on target to be completed in the coming week, which would leave Rennie without a steady job pretty quickly.  Not that he was hurting for money, he’d done just fine with the contract for refitting her home.  But he would want to return to his circuit of fishing charters, construction projects and handyman bids in the area.  Winter work slowed, even in the southern climate, so he did need some plans.  As they discussed the lack of sitters for the kids following Labor Day, they realized there would be room for Arlene.  Would it be enough for her?  Neither had a clue.  It would be another two days before Rennie would learn anything about what Arlene was thinking.  Quickly, however, he decided he did not have to cater to her wishes.  He had been the one to take control in her absence and he would remain so.  May Alice gently reminded him that, while he was right, he still needed to consider what would be best for the children in the long run.

It was obvious that working and living at the school dormitory would not allow Arlene an abundance of time to be with the kids.  He assumed it meant, then, that she would want to be with them on the weekends.  But that was his free time with them and he didn’t want to give them up, nor share his time with her.  “What if they still want to spend weekends here?” he asked.  

“It would break my heart if they didn’t, but it’s something we need to consider.”

He imagined the most obvious question would be why their mother would not be living in the house with them, which would lead to needing an answer on how to describe the term “divorce”.  He would rely on the advice of the good Deacon Leon to help with that one.  Aside from that, with the help of May Alice, he would simply have to field whatever questions arose and, as usual, they would all just learn together what worked best for them.  As before, they let the subject lay for the rest of the day, awaiting the conclusion of the meetings with the deacon and Arlene, before approaching the children but they knew turmoil was looming, and it served to help them appreciate that simple, happy weekend with each other and the kids all the more.

While busily appreciating one another in her bed Saturday morning, the two were momentarily interrupted by the sound of the ringing phone.  Worried it might be Chantelle, May Alice stopped what she was doing to Rennie to listen to the machine as it picked up.  To Rennie’s delight, she returned when she determined it was not Chantelle, but rather, Dr. Blades leaving a message.  The interruption was long forgotten until later in the afternoon. 

The library group had returned for lunch as usual and everyone was doing some part of setting the table, pouring milk in glasses, or helping with food preparation.  They ate and talked and Sabine commented that the remodel to the kitchen seemed done.  They discussed the smaller, cosmetic things that still needed to be done, but confirmed that basically, the house was finished.  As they started down the path of the coming school year, May Alice was reminded that Chantelle’s father had called earlier.  After lunch was finished and the kids had all trekked to the back yard with Rennie, May Alice was finishing up the dishes and Chantelle retrieved the message, which was asking her to please return his call as soon as was convenient.

May Alice heard her greet her father on the phone just as she left the kitchen for the back yard to join the others.  Rennie had all the kids camped out on the dock and he appeared to be pointing out something in the water to them.  She liked watching the little family together, watching their Pa, learning Cajun tales and forming memories that would last them a lifetime.  She decided not to join them; she just wanted to savor watching it all.  They’d brought happiness back to the old house, a happiness she was sure her parents would have been pleased with.  A short time later, Chantelle came and sat beside her in the grass.  She sported an odd expression on her face and May Alice inquired about it.

“My dad is seeing someone,” Chantelle responded in a sarcastically scandalous voice. 

“Go on!” May Alice replied.

“She’s someone he’s known awhile; she was widowed two years ago.  Since he’s not had Denita all summer, they’ve been able to spend time together.”  She stopped a moment, trying to find the words she hoped she’d heard right on the phone before relaying them.  “He’s considering letting Denita stay.”  She turned to face May Alice, and she had tears welling in her eyes. 

“That is wonderful news, my friend!” May Alice said to her, smiling.  She understood the gift Chantelle was being offered, and she certainly understood the emotional impact.  “We can get her registered for school with Acadia and the girls next week!”

Chantelle nodded and took a moment to collect herself.  Then she reached for the wheel of May Alice’s chair and held it.  “You’re not obligated to house us.  I can find us a place and still be here,”

“Don’t you dare,” May Alice interrupted.  “I mean, unless you want to?  Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You want more time alone with her?”

“No,” Chantelle said immediately, “It’s not that; at all.  No, I just – you didn’t sign on for this when you hired me.”

“Chantelle, I didn’t sign on for any of this,” she laughed, as she moved her arms out in front of her indicating the house, Chantelle, and Rennie, and the kids.  “and I couldn’t be happier.”  Then May Alice cupped her hand over Chantelle’s and continued, “I would love if you and Denita would stay, but I understand if you don’t want to; either now or later on.”  Chantelle wiped her tears and nodded her acknowledgement of May Alice’s invitation.  The women sat in silence a few minutes more, until Denita, having seen her mother wiping away tears, approached her. 

“Don’t be sad, Mama.  Pop says I can come visit a lot more this year; now that I’m older.” 

Chantelle knew the two had written to one another all summer and she was touched every time that her father took time to write Denita.  He also called and spoke to them every Sunday night.  Obviously he wouldn’t have told Denita of his offer before laying down the law to Chantelle.  Her reward for that was that she would get to tell Denita.  May Alice took the opportunity to leave the mother and child and head down to the dock.

Not long after, a very excited Denita was running down the small slope of the yard to the dock.  She was yelling to the girls, “I can stay!  I can go to school here!”

Later May Alice would learn that Dr. Blades would like to come for Labor Day and spend time with Denita and no doubt, make it clear to May Alice and Chantelle that he still had primary custody and could pull Denita at the first sign of trouble.

As the group had dinner that Saturday evening, a plan was made for everyone to spend the following Saturday on the river including a visit to Avery Island, home of the famous McIlenny’s Tobasco Farm.  Rennie had wanted something grand to finish of their unforgettable summer together and the kids seemed very excited about the adventure.  It also gave him something else to look forward to, as Monday, and the meeting with Arlene was looming.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

Deacon Leon thanked the Mother Superior for lending her office to him and Arlene after services Sunday.  They hadn’t planned to meet long and the space was intimate and the deacon hoped, comforting to Arlene.  He had hard words for the woman from Rennie, and while he would attempt to soften them for her, he knew the message was still solid.  He began by saying a prayer with Arlene in which he asked for the wisdom of God to grant her courage and understanding as Arlene continued her journey toward her catechism.  He began explaining to her Rennie’s concerns and then he detoured, for evidence of those concerns, how the children had assimilated to a life without her in it.  He explained that in spite of Arlene’s absence, the kids had flourished and were mostly happy.  The deacon knew this would be hard for Arlene to hear, so he reminded her that the opposite outcome would have been far worse.  She agreed and seemed to take comfort in that thought. 

Arlene explained that in her heart, she never left the children.  She thought of them every day, all day and every chore she performed for the deacon or his wife she’d often pretend she was doing in her own home, for her own family.  She and the deacon had many talks in the months she lived and worked with him, about how things might be when she returned; what the best course for her return might be; and he counseled her on repairing her relationship with her husband.  He had not expected that Rennie would have the time or the inclination to have moved on with another woman; that was never a scenario they’d planned for.  He knew Rennie filed for divorce, of course, and he had tried to keep Arlene from signing the papers, but she felt if she did that one thing for Rennie, maybe he could one day forgive her and open his heart back to her.  Not signing, she thought would only make him angrier and she had hurt him enough. 

Since the time Rennie had confessed his love of another woman, the deacon had reveled in a bit of denial.  He assumed that it was some fleeting affair; something Rennie felt the need to do, maybe to get back at Arlene a little, _ye olde rebound_ , he thought.   To that end, he decided not to tell Arlene about it.  On the outside chance Rennie’s affair was actually something, he reasoned, she would learn soon enough about it; and if it was just, as he hoped, some small act of revenge, it would burn out and she’d be none the wiser.  In fact, Arlene’s return might be just what Rennie needed to stop whatever he was doing and get back to the business of the family.

He phoned Rennie that evening to tell him that he’d opted to leave Rennie’s revelation of another woman out of the conversation for the time being and he made up another feasible justification for doing so.  Rennie didn’t care, it didn’t matter to him either way and he was just as happy to keep his life with May Alice separate from the one he’d recalled having with Arlene. 

Monday morning Rennie called May Alice.  “I just wanted to say good morning” he said.  He’d needed to hear her voice, needed her strength and her assurances.  They spoke only briefly and she wished him well and told him indeed, everything would be all right.  She hoped she’d not lied about that.

The trio met outside the Cathedral at St. John the Evangelist and they talked for two hours.  Rennie came away from the assembly hopeful, much to his surprise.  He, like May Alice, had found Arlene to be a new person.  She looked younger than he recalled in many years, she spoke to him thoughtfully and articulately and didn’t quote a single scripture the entire time.  She asked about each child and seemed genuinely concerned about how each reacted to her being gone.  Rennie didn’t sugar coat anything for her.  She kept calm and didn’t interrupt or make excuses.  She only broke down once, when he told her that Elizabeth, who had just been potty-trained before Arlene left, had wet the bed for months following her absence.

After, he explained to her how each child had learned to cope; the middle girls through reading, Acadia with painting and drawing and mothering her siblings, Jaxon had learned to swim and loved to fish in the very swamp she’d had him terrified of.  He didn’t say how Elizabeth coped.  He knew that was mostly all May Alice’s presence and he suddenly became vehemently protective of that relationship for them.  He skipped it and moved on to how Arlene envisioned her return to them might go.

While she’d listened to Rennie speak, she was taken by his command.  She’d not recalled him being so confident, so commanding and so, . . .fatherly.  She did not know this version of him, or if she had, she had buried it so deeply under her dogma she didn’t remember.  She was impressed by him.  He seemed taller and his hair was grayer than she remembered, and it was trimmed neatly, not the messy, thick locks she’d loathed.  He looked heavier too, more muscular than she’d remembered.  She was drawn to this version, but she felt no attraction to him. 

She answered his question about her reentering the family.  She seemed to honestly have thought it all out.  She didn’t want to rush back in; she understood the fragile nature associated with abandonment.  She knew she would need to earn the trust of the children back and she knew she needed to do that slowly; but she needed Rennie to realize she was still their mother.  She would never, not be their mother, and as such, she would fight him as hard as she had to, to spend time with them.

They agreed that her schedule, which the Mother Superior had generously helped her fashion, would be conducive to a tentative reunion.  She proposed first, meeting the kids after school, staying with them at their home for the few hours between school’s end to the time Rennie would return from work.  If that went well, she’d like to prepare and have dinner with them.  Later they could discuss the possibility that she could stick around and help ready them for bed too.

Weekends, yes, she would like very much to spend time with them and Saturday’s were the best, of course, so she could assist at the church on Sunday’s.  As he’d felt when speaking with May Alice about weekends, he was not ready to give those up just yet.  He told Arlene he would allow her the afternoons with them during the week, and they would decide later about dinners and weekends.  She knew she was not in a position to bargain.  She’d reminded him already of her only demands, that she would remain their mother and in their lives, and he seemed to be allowing that so she agreed to this offering.  It was a start.

As the immediate future seemed hammered out, the deacon excused himself, allowing the two to part on their own.  Rennie thanked him for his efforts and they agreed to speak in the future.  The deacon said he would see Arlene shortly, before he headed back to Baton Rouge.

Arlene moved to walk Rennie off the church grounds.  She thanked him for coming and for considering her.  Then she stopped and placed her hand on his forearm, in effort to stop him from walking.  He stopped and turned to her, looking at her inquisitively. 

“Do you think we were ever really in love?”  She was still perplexed over her complete lack of attraction for him, especially having been apart for so long.

Rennie knew the answer.  He’d learned it the first time he kissed May Alice.  He’d never felt anything so passionately before and it made him doubt if ever loved anyone before her.  “I think we had something like it once, but not the right kind of love we needed for this to work.”

They started to walk again and Arlene said “It’s sad, isn’t it?  We found a way to have, and love five beautiful children, without having that love between us.”  Then she stopped again and faced Rennie and finished, “I am sorry for that part, Rennie.  But I am not sorry about our kids.  I thank God every day that He blessed us with every one of them.”

Rennie smiled at her but had no words to offer.  He loved the kids, of course, but he never gave much thought to having, or not having them with her.  Later that year, however, he would understand better what she was trying to say.

Rennie returned to the Culane home in time for the catered BBQ lunch May Alice and Chantelle had planned to thank, and say goodbye to, the construction crews.  With the work being concluded and the crews still not all farmed out to other projects yet, the men had been invited to have lunch and stay to fish or just hang around some with the kids.  It was a casual, fun afternoon and the men were happy with the work they’d been able to do for these generous women.  A few of the men fished off the dock with Jaxon and it was the first time Jaxon realized he was going to attend the first grade.  He’d assumed he’d be going back to the daycare with Elizabeth but one of the men mentioned his son would also be “in the first grade” and suggested maybe they’d have the same teacher.  Other conversations focused on the girls and how much they would miss Naomi and Sandy, who were also being celebrated at the BBQ.  In keeping with form, May Alice and the girls had created short stories for the sitters’ just as they had done for the birthday girls during the summer. However, this time, it was Missy, Sabine and Acadia who took the liberty to read and act out each part in the stories.  It proved to be even more hilarious than when May Alice had done it. 

By 4:00 p.m., all the celebrants and the caterers had departed the home.  Talk was still very much focused on school.  Chantelle offered to take the girls shopping for school clothes with she and Denita the following day and Rennie was thankful for that, never having thought about the fact that they’d all grown and likely wouldn’t fit into most of what they wore the previous year.  The girls all reminded Rennie again that he and Chantelle needed to register them for school on Thursday.  They were so excited he couldn’t help but be excited for them.  There was much chatter but Rennie noticed that May Alice was unusually quiet, as was Elizabeth.  He wondered if they too were feeling the underlying sadness about the inevitable changes coming with the end of that perfect summer.  As if to officially signify that end, his thought was interrupted with the arrival of an inspector from May Alice’s insurance company who was there to sign off on the final completion of the home additions. 


	29. 29

**Chapter 29**

As agreed, Chantelle and Denita met Rennie at his house Wednesday morning to collect the girls for shopping for the coming school year.  Rennie would be taking Elizabeth and Jaxon to May Alice’s, deciding that they would tire too quickly to keep up with the others and Elizabeth didn’t seem to mind one bit and happily found her way to Rennie’s truck.  Rennie agreed to take Jaxon to shop for clothes on his own the following day, once everyone was registered at school. 

The foursome enjoyed all morning together on the boat dock.  Elizabeth colored, May Alice was writing yet another short story for an upcoming birthday, and Rennie was finally teaching Jaxon how to cast from the dock.  While Rennie looked forward to the upcoming Saturday, to celebrate their last weekend all being together, he’d not have traded that morning for any other.  He believed he was more content than he had a right to be. 

The shoppers all returned mid-afternoon and the girls lugged every bag into the house.  Each of the them wanted to show their outfits to May Alice and Rennie, which they did for nearly an hour.  The remainder of the day went like most, with everyone spending various amounts of time in some combination of kids and adults.  That evening however, following dinner, something unusual happened.  None of the Boudreaux’s really wanted to leave. 

Acadia broached the subject with an exuberant, “wouldn’t it be fun if we all had a sleepover?”  Rennie looked a little embarrassed, not for what she said, but for the implication in his own mind, remembering what fun a sleepover with May Alice was like.

As if reading his mind, May Alice responded to the kids, “That is a terrific idea!”

The rest of the awake-hours were spent with popcorn, Kool-Aid, movies and a game.  When it was time to put everyone to bed, Jaxon and Rennie were assigned the master bedroom, Missy and Sabine were in May Alice’s childhood room, and Denita and Acadia were in Denita’s room.  Elizabeth had already fallen fast asleep in May Alice’s bed an hour prior, so, it was agreed to let her stay there.  All but Elizabeth, Rennie, and Jaxon had been lent various t-shirts to sleep in, and Jaxon found it kind of manly to get to sleep only in his undies.

Once she made it into her bed, although she was tired, May Alice didn’t fall asleep right away.  She was equally captivated by listening to Elizabeth breathing beside her and the lustful thought of a half-naked Rennie sleeping just above her on the second floor.  Eventually, the soft breathing and noises coming from Elizabeth lulled May Alice to sleep.  She was awakened some time later by Rennie moving Elizabeth from the bed.  “I’ll be right back,” he whispered. 

She was still mostly asleep and decided she’d dreamt it; but she hadn’t and soon after, she was re-awakened by hot kisses on her neck and torso, and what followed was definitely better than any dream.  She felt his warm, naked body as he pressed against her and heard his now-familiar low growls as he positioned himself over her.  She felt his hand move down from her neck, first around her breasts, then after spending quality time there, proceeding between her breasts, his fingers tracing along her ribs, then down past her navel.  She knew he was maneuvering his hand into a position to gauge her readiness for him.  Moments later he smiled at her, lifted one of her legs over his and entered her.  Soon his ministrations would provide the adequate movement and stimulation to the feeling parts of her body, and she’d join him in enthusiastic release.  

Just before dawn, Rennie woke from his slumber, kissed May Alice and began to depart from her embrace and bed when she stopped him.  “We need to break the news to kids,” she whispered, “They need time to process it.”

He kissed her shoulder and whispered back, “I know.  Today.  We’ll do it today.”  He exited her room for the upstairs master bedroom where he’d placed Elizabeth next to Jaxon hours before, and where both were still fast asleep.

Everyone slept in that morning until, eventually, awakened by the smell of frying bacon, everyone was up and found their way to the kitchen for the mid-morning breakfast Chantelle had started for them.  May Alice laughed at everyone’s appearance.  Save for the adults, no one had dressed or brushed their hair, and all but Jaxon, were still in their borrowed sleep clothes.  It was exactly how she remembered her rare childhood sleepover mornings to be, and she was happy she got to be part of this first one for the Boudreaux clan.  As conversation began to perk up with sleepiness departing, Rennie began the delicate discussion he needed to.  He told the kids that their Maw was back in Lafayette, and that he had seen her, and that she asked about seeing each of them again.  He waited for that information to set in, waited for the questions he assumed would follow. 

Missy was first, and asked “When?”

“Anytime you’re ready; and she would like to stay with you after school, until I get home.” 

That opened up the next question, from Acadia, “What do you mean, _until_ you get home?”

Finally, Rennie explained that he and Arlene were no longer married, and with that came the need for different living spaces, and the need to spend time with them separately.  Naturally, Jaxon and Elizabeth were not as clear on the subject, but the other girls seemed to understand.  Rennie offered information on where Arlene was living, and how she was taking care of the ladies at a church, but not the church they all had known. 

Missy asked, “Is Maw sad?” 

Rennie said he didn’t think she seemed sad.  “She seemed real happy about seeing all of you, I know that.”

Following that, there were very few questions that morning, but over the next few days, as the meaning set in about their mother being back, more and more would be discussed.  Missy and Sabine both expressed an interest in seeing Arlene.  Rennie assumed the other kids might have some interest by the time it was arranged, and would also join.  Eventually each of the kids, except Elizabeth, had all found something they were curious about regarding the return of their mother, and Rennie answered as best he could.  May Alice fielded some questions too, from the older girls, and much like Rennie, she did her best to assure them that Arlene’s return was probably a good thing.  She wouldn’t have necessarily believed that except she’d seen Arlene that day in the diner.  She kept reminding herself how much better the woman seemed to be and hoped that it was not a façade

Saturday as planned, was all about the family they’d been all summer.  The Boudreaux family arrived by boat to greet May Alice, Chantelle, Denita, and Dr. Blades, who’d arrived from Chicago the day before.  Rennie, as he had often through the summer, borrowed a friend’s pontoon boat to allow everyone to ride together on the river that day.  They spent a beautiful, and peaceful day on the water where Rennie pointed out wildlife and spoke about the area.  Dr. Blades was impressed with the salt dome and how it made up Avery Island, and everyone enjoyed seeing the vast pepper fields that were cultivated for McIlhenny’s Tabasco Sauce.  Having never tried the sauce before, the Doc seemed pleasantly surprised to like it.  The girls were amazed by the equally vast botanical gardens and the many varieties of flowers they’d never seen, even in Grand Coteau.

Rennie wasn’t sure if it was the addition of Dr. Blades to the mix of the group, or something else, but no one brought up Arlene that day, until he did, briefly.  During one of the few private moments he and May Alice found themselves with on Avery Island, he explained to her that the previous day, he had contacted Arlene and made arrangements to have her meet the children for a few hours on Sunday, following Arlene’s commitments to the Church.  He was struggling with where to have them meet.  May Alice suggested neutral ground might work in everyone’s favor.  She said it might provide less pressure for Arlene, who would soon enough be stepping back into the house she’d abandoned, and that would, no doubt, be a cause of some emotion for her and she would already have plenty of that to deal with.  She also suggested that it might help focus the kids, they would not have the distraction of their own toys and neighborhood friends to compete with the task at hand, which was welcoming their mother back into their lives.  She and Rennie knew these kids well, yet neither had any idea what the reunion would be like for them. 

On the voyage back Elizabeth had grown weary and reached out for May Alice.  She held the girl so she might fall asleep, but for a while longer Elizabeth just rested her head against May Alice’s.  Finally, May Alice whispered, “You can sleep, sweetheart.”

“Miss Ma, do you love me?” the child whispered back. 

“Of course, I do.”

“Daddy never lets me sleep before he says he loves me,” she explained.

With a small kiss to the child’s head May Alice said, “Miss Elizabeth, I love you more than there are stars in the night sky.”

Rennie watched the exchange, one of many he’d seen between the two in their months together, and he suddenly became very worried for them, and he didn’t know why.  Still, the day was everything Rennie hoped it would be, and they stayed on the water until the last wisps of light faded.  After unloading gear at May Alice’s, the kids all said their good nights and everyone agreed to meet up again on Monday, their last day of summer before school. 

Rennie moved to help May Alice out of her chair so he could move it to land.  To accomplish that he would usually help her stand and she would hold on to whatever would hold her steady during the transition.  In this case, she held on to the steering wheel of the boat until he returned for her.  When he did, he faced her and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace instead of immediately moving to lift her out of the boat.  They held each other for that moment, as though not another soul on Earth was near.  When he finally released her, he kissed her full on the mouth and was immediately met with gasps and laughter from the kids.  While the two had held hands, and shared little kisses here and there in front of the kids, nothing this passionate had previously been displayed.  They both laughed too, having heard the reaction of the kids.  He then moved her off the boat and wheeled her back to the house where he kissed her again, a private, lingering, deep kiss.  He left her breathless, and she left him hopeful of a time when he’d no longer have to leave her after saying good night.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

At 2:00 p.m. Sunday, as arranged the previous night when they’d returned home from the picture-perfect day on the water, Rennie had the kids set up under a large covered gazebo in Girard Park when Arlene arrived.  She approached quietly, after purposely having obscured herself a moment behind some bushes to observe the kids just before she was to meet with them.  She was quickly overcome, however, with the need to hold each one, so, didn’t stay hidden for any time at all.  

Missy made first contact; she ran out with open arms and hugged her mother; but she was the only one.  The other kids, it seemed, were perplexed about the appearance of the woman, maybe much like May Alice had been upon seeing her the previous week.  Their mother appeared younger than who they recalled; her hair, always pulled back into a bun, was loose and fell to her shoulders.  She had color to her formerly pasty skin and she was smiling.  Rennie realized he couldn’t recall the last time he had seen her genuinely smile, happy to see her kids.  Arlene escorted Missy back to the gazebo where she said hello to everyone as a group.  No sooner had she looked upon each face, she had tears welling in her eyes, overcome by what she knew she’d left behind for so long.  She quickly composed herself, not wanting to frighten the younger kids.  She approached Elizabeth first, with arms outstretched, but Elizabeth backed away and went immediately to Rennie and climbed in his lap. 

“Say hello to your Maw, Elizabeth.”  The toddler looked at her father as though confused by the statement, she then looked around, and then back to Arlene but said nothing. 

Jaxon blurted out, “She’s looking for Miss Ma.”

 _Awkward moment number one, complete,_ Rennie mentally check marked.  To her credit, Arlene let it pass and moved on to Jaxon.  “Well Jaxon, you are hardly my little boy.  Look how big you are!” She didn’t reach for him, but he did move to her and gave her a quick hug around the legs, and quickly returned to the table. 

“You’re all so grown,” she said, making eye contact with each.  When she got to Acadia, she moved to her, knelt down and took the girl’s hand in hers and said, “Acadia, honey.  I am so sorry for the trouble I caused you.  I was not well then.  I wasn’t sick like you were, but unwell in another way, can you understand that?”  Acadia nodded.  “I know I said things to you during that time that were unforgivable, but I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day.” 

Acadia didn’t know what to do, or what to say.  She’d heard the word heart and realized hers hurt, and she was frightened by that.  She could feel her family’s eyes all staring at her and she wanted to run but she literally couldn’t move her body, which frightened her all the more.  Then she thought of May Alice, in her wheelchair, unable to move her legs.  The thought of May Alice comforted her in that moment and allowed her to recall something important May Alice told her.  The words found their way back into the girl’s head and replaced the rising panic she was being consumed by, _your mother was mistaken_ , she repeated to herself, _she realized that and it’s why she took you back to the hospital_.  The memory and comfort freed her enough to say, “I forgive you, Maw,” and she reached for her mother with the sweetest embrace Arlene would ever feel in her lifetime.  Even Rennie was not immune to the exchange.  He found himself holding on to Elizabeth tightly and concealing a tear on her t-shirt.  Acadia never ceased to amaze him and he was never more grateful to God for having spared the girl against so many odds.

Acadia’s acceptance opened the door for each of the kids to begin to speak and question their mother about her sickness, and was she better now, and was she going to be all right.  Rennie wasn’t sure if it was by design, but having used the term “illness”, the kids now had something tangible to blame their mother’s absence on.  It wasn’t a lie, he knew, but it had been a choice, and it would be some time still before he would be able to forgive her.  Regardless, he was happy the children were neither elated by, nor bitter of their mother’s presence that day.  Only Elizabeth never quite warmed up to the meeting.  She would play with the girls in the presence of their mother, but never left one of her sister’s sides and did not, as far as Rennie observed, ever acknowledge Arlene.

“Give her time,” May Alice said later that night on the phone. “She’s still so young.  She can’t possibly understand.”  He knew she was right, but he felt very guilty that deep down for two things.  He had let May Alice take Arlene’s place with the girl, and he was a little happy to think Elizabeth might prefer May Alice to Arlene.  He cursed himself at the thought, and vowed to remove that blackness from his heart, one day.

In spite of the awkward and emotional meeting of the Boudreaux’s that Sunday, Labor Day Monday was all about play time at the Culhane home and the excitement of the new school year beginning the following day.  In addition to her having taken the girls shopping for clothes the previous week, Chantelle had also taken them to Woolworth’s for school supplies.  On that Monday, the kids had all retrieved the multiple bags of school supplies and brought them out where the girls would spend an hour divvying up pencils, crayons, paste, and paper and carefully preparing their individual new backpacks.  They’d all decided on what outfits they would wear for their first day, too.  Only Jaxon had no desire to participate in any of the activities.  He’d already tolerated trying on new clothes that previous week, but only for about twenty minutes which, fortunately, had been enough time for Rennie to get his size.  He was able to pick the rest of the shirts and pants without subjecting the boy to trying everything on.  He’d also tolerated a haircut but only because Rennie had gone first.

May Alice worried about Jaxon.  He had grown so close to Rennie, she didn’t know how he would process being away from is Pa all day and then having to share him with the others at night.  At least he would be at the same school with the other girls; which then made her worry about Elizabeth.  She would be in the same day care as the previous year, but without Jaxon.  For the first time in her life, Elizabeth would be alone.  That hadn’t gone so well at the Y, they all recalled.  She tried to comfort herself with a reminder that Elizabeth was a little bit older now, maybe that would make a difference, and she could almost read, which might keep her entertained enough to not miss having her brothers and sisters around.  She tried to encourage herself, but she couldn’t bury her own sadness over not having Elizabeth with her every day.

Denita had an emotional parting with Dr. Blades in the early afternoon.  She had taken so well to the Boudreaux kids, and to being with Chantelle, but she did miss her grandpa.  She had clung to him more that visit than any before, and she was genuinely sad to say goodbye.  He assured her he would see her again at Thanksgiving but she still cried that night before she went to sleep.

Bedtime at the Boudreaux’s was not nearly as emotional, but the atmosphere was a little strained.  Rennie had taken the kids home early, before dinner, which hadn’t happened in months.  They cooked and ate in their own home and during dinner, he reminded them of the routine he and Arlene had agreed to for them.  He would prepare and deliver everyone to school in the mornings and they would all ride the bus home together.  The bus was an unknown for them, never having taken it before.  Mrs. Flower’s however, assured them earlier in the day that she would be on duty and would help them to the right bus, which would always be the same number bus and the same one they would ride all year.  Only Elizabeth would be picked up earlier by Arlene and both would be waiting their return at the bus stop.  They would all stay at home and do homework or play until Rennie came home.

“Lizzie’s gonna freak out,” Acadia declared.

“Let’s hope not,” Rennie said. 

As he tucked the kids in for bed, much earlier than they were used to now, he whispered something encouraging to each of them as he said goodnight.  He was nervous for them, and for himself.  He would have loved to relive their summer for the rest of his days on Earth, but knowing life simply goes on, he tried to find comfort for himself in the words he offered to them.  He decided, before going to sleep he could use some comforting words too.  May Alice was curious how dinner went; realizing also, the family had not had dinner in their own home in so long.  She was happy that, at least, she and Chantelle still had Denita to make her own house feel less empty.  She could barely remember the times before the kids’ arrival and she couldn’t imagine what she and Chantelle had done all day back then and the truth was she didn’t want to.

Rennie gave her the highlights but it was clear that all the two really wanted in that moment was to connect with one another one more time that day.  May Alice had encouraging words for him, that everything would be okay, and that the week would be over quick and they could all gather together again on the weekend.

“We didn’t really discuss what would become of our Saturday mornings, you know?” Rennie pointed out. 

She laughed a little, but commented with sincerity, “You need to see how much you miss the kids during the week before you decide what you want on Saturday mornings.  And of course, we are adults.  You can come here anytime,” she added suggestively.

“How about now? I miss you already,” he said.

She laughed again and said, “ _We’re_ adults, your kids aren’t.  But I miss you too.”

“Well, I have a confession.  I didn’t line up much work for tomorrow, y’know, just in case.”

“I had a feeling you might not,” she said with a yawn she tried to stifle.  She was tired, but could have talked to Rennie all night long.  He of course, heard it in her voice anyway, so, said he loved her and he would drop by sometime the following day.

He lay down in the bed that felt suddenly emptier than before.  He fell asleep soon and was awakened much, much later by a dream he was sure he’d had before.  _When?_ He couldn’t recall but he was certain he’d dreamt it before.

 _May Alice’s driveway was before him, its familiar and welcoming dogwood trees lining both sides.  He was approaching the house in his truck, mesmerized by the flakes falling in his path.  As with the time before, he felt happy and like he was arriving for some designated festivity he couldn’t quite remember.  He looked to his right and saw May Alice sitting beside him, smiling at him.  Although it appeared to be snowing, and should have been cold out, his window was down and her long hair was blowing across her face.  He reached for her face to stroke her cheek,_ and woke up.  Befuddled by the mix of emotions, what he was feeling in the dream, and the disappointment of waking without her, were compounded by the fact that he’d had the dream before.  He could never recall having had that happen before.  He wondered what his father might have told him about such things.  He was quickly comforted by the first rays of morning light and the fact that if he had to have a recurring dream, that was a pretty good one to have.


	30. 30

**Chapter 30**

Remarkably, the first four days of school, and afternoons with Arlene being with her children, went rather smoothly.  Tentative at first, the kids quickly fell right back into the routine that they’d had with her the year prior and Arlene, being freed from oppressive religious peers, was actually enjoying learning that her children had personalities and were quite smart.  Only Elizabeth remained a challenge.  Jaxon had his moments as well, but generally, Rennie would return about the time Jaxon was tired of being without him as that was as far as his unhappiness went.  Elizabeth, however, was not yet as independent of their summer routine, and by the end of that first Friday, the distraction of school, and Arlene, and being at home, had apparently worn thin.  That afternoon, once all the kids had returned home, Elizabeth grew cross with everything.  She would not play with her toys, she would interrupt the girls as they did their homework, she refused to help Arlene in the kitchen, whatever they tried she wanted no part of.  Fortunately, Rennie had arrived home a little earlier than he had been able to all week.  He arrived by 4:30 and hearing reports of Elizabeth’s behavior, took the girl from the others and out to the back yard with him.  He found a shady spot and sat in the wild grass with her on his lap.  He had actually expected a tantrum earlier in the week, being fairly certain about the cause of her unhappiness, but he wasn’t sure the resolution he wanted would be the right one for his family.

“You want to tell Papa what’s going on?” He started.  The girl shook her head.  “You want to know what I think?” he asked her. 

She looked at him, and offered, “I’m in trouble.”

Her matter-of-fact statement made him laugh and he smiled and said “No.  I think maybe you’re missing Miss Ma?”  He looked at her and saw tears welling up in her giant green eyes.  She didn’t bawl, she simply sniffed a little as the tears fell.  “She misses you too, sweetheart.  She told me.”  He tried to stroke her hair the way he’d seen May Alice do.

“You saw Miss Ma?” she whispered. 

“I did.”

“I didn’t think we were allowed,” she said, looking confused.

“Not allowed to what?” he responded, equally confused. 

“Talk about Miss Ma, ask to see her.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Acadia said we should not talk about Miss Ma around,” she pointed her little finger toward the house and said, “her.”

Rennie was embarrassed.  He realized that he’d obviously not explained his divorcing their mother very well, at all.  All he’d thought about was how to explain to Arlene about May Alice’s role in his life.  He’d not given a second thought to how to explain to his kids the same thing.  “First of all,” he pointed at the house, just as she had, “She, is your Maw, and you will refer to her as such.”  Elizabeth started to protest and he stopped her, “No, she is your Maw.  May Alice is like your Ma, but different.  You’re lucky, Elizabeth, you have two Ma’s who love you,” he offered.

“But I want Miss Ma.”

“You’ll see her soon, I promise.” 

“But I want her always,” she said sadly.  He couldn’t argue; he wanted her always too.  They sat in the grass a few more minutes, but neither spoke until Rennie lifted her up and moved her back into the house.

Arlene and Rennie sat at the kitchen table and talked about the past, and coming week; Arlene confirmed that everything with her schedule seemed to be going fine, even the borrowing of the church’s van for the hours she had the kids was not posing any issue.  She then asked if she could accompany all of them to the library the following day, saying, “So you and I could talk more.”  He was crushed.  He’d hoped she’d not ask for weekend time just yet.  He knew the kids loved going to the library, and he loved what their being there allowed him to do with May Alice.  He wasn’t ready to give that up, plus he wasn’t sure what more they had to talk about.  Still, he understood her plea to lend consistency to the kids seeing her.  He and May Alice would still have the afternoon, and all Sunday to be together, so he agreed.

Before she left she found each of the kids and said a personal goodbye to them.  Missy and Sabine hugged her, and Acadia said, “bye Maw,” and waved to her from her room.  Jaxon shook her hand, which made everyone laugh, even Arlene.  She’d taken to calling him “little man” that week and assumed handshakes came with the territory for ‘men’.  She didn’t know how to approach Elizabeth, so, she didn’t.  She waved at her, and said she would see her the next day, and they would have a lot of fun together.  Elizabeth said “Ok,” but like Acadia, did not move to hug her or even shake her hand.  Rennie found that whole exchange oddly sad, but he quickly ran out of time to dwell on it as he busied himself with what to make for dinner, and how to try and rectify his mishandling of May Alice in his, and their life. 

As they sat to eat, he started the conversation, hoping it would take him where he needed to go.  He had gotten very good at letting his kids communicate with him in any manner they could articulate, so, if it went in another direction, he’d allow that.  He knew they’d not had a lot of freedom with Arlene before to express their thoughts or feelings and he was guilty too because he’d not been involved with them as much back then. 

“So, I know it’s only been a few days, but how are y’all feelin’ about your Maw being back here, being with you like she was this week?”  No one spoke up, they all seemed to be looking at their plates instead of him.  “There’s no wrong answer.  I know this ain’t a real normal thing.  I mean, some families don’t have a Maw and Pa living together, but it’s maybe different when it’s your own Maw and Pa, yeah?”  Still nothing.  “Well, maybe it’s too soon to know.  You can let me know.  But, there is something I think I should have included you in before now, and I didn’t.”  That got their attention.  They kept eating, but finally, were making eye contact.  “You know how I love you?  I say it to you every night because I want you to know it, but love is really kind of a feeling, more than a word.  It means a lot of things, but to me, for my love for each of you, it means I couldn’t live without you.  It means I’d do anything for you.  Do you feel like you know that about me?”  They all nodded, or said something that told him they were getting it, so he continued.  “Well, that is one kind of love; that’s a Pa’s love, and it does not change, and it’s forever.  But the kind of love that some Maw’s and Pa’s have between them, sometimes that love changes, and sometimes it means those folks don’t stay together.”

“You told us this before,” Acadia said, losing interest.

“I tried to, yes – but I left something out, something really important.  I have come to love Miss May Alice.  I love her, and I didn’t tell you that before, and it was wrong of me, and I am sorry.”  The kids looked blankly and he was afraid he was losing them, but he continued, hoping they could follow.  “Ah, y’see, because I love her, I want her to be with me, and that means being with us, part of our family, and I should have told you that before because I want to know what you think about her maybe being with us.”

“Instead of Maw?” Sabine asked.

“In some ways, yes.”

“But then who will love Maw?” She asked.

“Well, you will; and now she is free to have someone else lover her too.  Someone she could love back, like I love May Alice.”

“What if she wants to love you still?” Sabine asked. 

“Ah. . . Sabine, I don’t think that is going to happen,” he chuckled; forgetting how hopeful children could be.

“But you don’t know, have you asked her?” the girl said pointedly.

“I’ve talked to her, but no, I’ve not made it clear about how I feel about May Alice.”  Then something dawned on him, “Is this why y’all didn’t want to talk about her to your Maw?”  They all looked at Acadia, but no one said anything.  “I’ll tell her; you don’t need to worry about that.”

“So, we stay with you?” Sabine continued.

“Yes.  No matter what, you will always be with me.”  Then, as an afterthought, added, with more sadness than he expected, “Well, unless there comes a time when you don’t want to be.”  After recovering from that sobering thought, he was worried he’d still not made his original point, so, he asked them again, to consider how they would feel about his being in love with May Alice.

“Fine with me,” Acadia said flatly. 

Jaxon simultaneously chimed in, “Me too.” 

Rennie was bothered by the terseness of Acadia’s answer, but he didn’t want to call her out on it in front of the others.  Jaxon, he knew, was simply mimicking his older sister.  He looked directly at Acadia and clarified, “I’m not asking for an answer this minute.  This is a big thing, and you should listen to your heart.  It’s a feeling, and sometimes feelings take time to be understood.  If you give it time, the words to match your feelings will come to you, and then you can know how you feel about Miss May Alice and me.  Then you can tell me.  You can tell me anything, you should all believe that.”

Following that, Rennie changed the subject.  He said they would all go to the library together the following morning, but then asked what they’d like do the rest of the day.  Jaxon, of course, said fishing to which all the girls laughed.  

Acadia said, “Play at Miss May Alice’s,” to which everyone, even Jaxon agreed.

“Jaxon, why don’t we see if Miss Malice wants to go out on the boat Sunday and fish?”  Rennie said with a wink.

“I guess,” the boy responded.

After dinner, Rennie phoned May Alice.  He’d been so busy with jobs, and bids for more, he’d not gotten to see her in person once since Tuesday, and even that was too short a visit for his preference.  They spoke on the phone more in those three days than any since they’d been seeing one another and he hated it.  He found himself envying his children, who seemed to be handling being without her much better than he was.  He didn’t know when he’d have the chance to be alone with her again, and he hated that too.  “The kids want to come out tomorrow, if that’s okay?” he told her.

“Great!  We were hoping for that,” she said.

“Yeah?” he asked, “Sure you’re not enjoying the quiet?”  He asked honestly, because whenever he’d asked her during the week what they were doing with all their free time, she’d said they were keeping busy.  Maybe they really had things they needed to be doing without five additional kids under foot.

“It’s a little too quiet, I think,” she said. “So, library first?” she wondered, a little hopeful that Rennie would sneak over early. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said, “Arlene wants to go, all of us together, for some reason.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.


	31. 31

**Chapter 31**

Overcome by events, was the theme of that first weekend.  The only part of the weekend plan that held was the Boudreaux’s having made it to the library, where Rennie and Arlene did, in fact, talk more.  Once the kids were settled inside, the two made their way to the rose garden where Arlene approached Rennie.  She had sensed there was something important that had happened to her family in her absence and she wanted to know what it was.  Rennie confirmed that he’d planned to tell her before, but was convinced by Deacon Leon to wait.  He apologized to her for that and then, he said, simply, “I have fallen in love with May Alice.  I think she loves me too, and I plan to marry her, if she’ll have . . . us.”  It was the first time he’d said the words aloud, and he was a little annoyed he’d said them to Arlene first. 

Arlene was stunned by the news.  She immediately came to her own conclusion and accused, “You were seeing her before I left.” 

He answered her with conviction, that he had visited, but had neither fallen in love with her, nor had an affair with her while they were married.  She looked at him hard, weighing whether she believed him.  He saw, what he thought was hurt, in her expression, and surmised she didn’t believe him.  He couldn’t understand.  Even she had suggested they’d not been in love, only two weeks before, and now she was essentially accusing him of cheating on her.  He became even more annoyed than he had been before.  Arlene didn’t say anything else, and in a few moments, stood, and left the bench, and did not return.  After forty minutes, he returned to the library, where he found her at a table reading a book with Sabine and Missy.  It infuriated him.  He’d trusted her to be. . . _what_? _Understanding?  Accepting?  Wasn’t that the least she could be after all she’d left him with?_ And then he recalled having given up his Saturday morning for her.  He was angriest over that.  Sadly, it was only the first of his bitter disappointments that weekend.

As the family departed the library two hours later, Rennie had calmed some.  He’d phoned May Alice earlier and told her of some of the exchange.  She was sensible and told him that break ups, even welcomed ones, were never easy.  She suggested that with Arlene’s having traded one religious study for another, she was protected from having to deal with the aftermath of her actions.  She suggested maybe Arlene was really angry with herself, and not him.  She knew that was not likely true; as a woman, she knew the thought of another woman was always cause for hurt feelings and dark emotions, especially unreasonable and unexpected ones, but she didn’t think that would be helpful for Rennie to hear right then.  She could have said anything, really, just hearing her voice, and the calmness in it, soothed him.  She reminded him, finally, that Arlene’s reaction changed nothing between the two of them and that made him feel good again.

When the time came, the family said good bye to Arlene and gathered into Rennie’s truck.  Part way along the post-library drive toward the Culhane home, Rennie recalled he’d promised Mrs. Flower’s he’d look at a leak in her shower.  He’d put her off for two days already, and knowing it might be leaking, he needed to at least go shut off the water to that room for her.  He assured the kids they’d be back on their way in no time.

They were not.  The leak was extensive and he felt awful for having deferred his help.  If he delayed any longer, the hardware store would close and he’d not be able to fix it for another day or more.  He took stock of the damage, turned off her water, and said he’d take the kids to get some lunch and he’d get the materials he needed from the store and return., but Mrs. Flowers insisted he let her make lunch for everyone, and she’d watch the kids while he ran for supplies.  Hoping that would save time, he agreed.  When he got the hardware store, he called his friend, Wilson Gates, and recruited him to help with the plumbing.  He also called May Alice and apologized for the sudden change of plans. 

Five hours later, Rennie and Wilson were finishing the last of the repair, less replacing some tiles they’d had to knock out.  Wilson offered to come back on Monday and complete that portion since Rennie already had other jobs lined up.  Mrs. Flower’s was the perfect entertainer for the kids that day.  She had them swimming in her pool and later, baking and decorating cookies.  They were thoroughly tired out by the time Rennie and Wilson had finished.  Mrs. Flowers sent home stew, which she’d also made with the kids that afternoon.  She knew Rennie would work like a dog to complete her project and he wouldn’t take much payment.  She wouldn’t hear of his needing to cook dinner for those kids that night too.  He was grateful for her hospitality and generosity but it did little to make up for his having to miss seeing May Alice yet another day.

When they all got home, they ate, and then started a parade of baths and showers, in preparation for bed.  Rennie thanked the kids for being so good that day, even though it bothered him that they had not complained about not going to May Alice’s.  When he went to kiss Elizabeth good night, he found he was too late and she’d already fallen asleep.  He kissed her, and said he loved her anyway, but no hug from either her, or May Alice that day, was really not sitting well with him.  The other kids were still awake and he was able to hug and kiss them, and that made him feel a little better.  He lay on the bed a moment, catching a second wind so he could call May Alice and say he loved her too, but he fell fast asleep and didn’t wake again until 5:30 a.m.

May Alice had spent much of the Saturday writing.  She had found a thread of her story to follow, and though it took many directions, she’d ended up with something she liked.  She needed Rennie to flesh out some of the folklore that she wanted to include in one portion, so, she’d set it aside around 8:30 that night, realizing he and the kids were not going to make it over that day.  She felt tired, and assumed it was a little bit of sadness over having missed her Saturday with them, but she was happy that they’d have Sunday to spend together.  Denita and Chantelle had given up much earlier and decided to go to the movies but May Alice was on a roll and didn’t want to stop writing.  She had thought Rennie would call her before he turned in, but when she fell asleep at 9:30, he had not phoned. 

She fell asleep so quickly, she didn’t realize right off that she was dreaming.  _She was in her wheelchair, sitting at the edge of the water in her back yard.  She was alone, it was night and she thought she should be getting back to the house, not sure why she was at the shoreline to begin with.  She tried to turn the chair but found it was stuck in the mud.  She worked hard to free it, and as she worked, she heard a low growl.  She looked up to the dock and saw a large dog hunched on the dock.  It was snarling, it’s eyes glowing red.  It bared its teeth, and began a deliberate prowl toward her.  She stopped struggling with the chair and reached around to the back pocket, pulled out an axe, and poised herself for imminent battle.  As the dog reached the end of the dock nearest her, it charged her, leaping fully through the air toward her.  To her amazement she wielded the axe effortlessly, finding the and splitting the dog’s skull, but when it made contact, the dog dissolved and became a colony of bats that promptly flew off into the night._   She awoke, winded and panicked.  It was 3:30 a.m.  “What the hell?” she said aloud.  It took her a few minutes to calm herself, but she was able to return to a dreamless sleep that remained the rest of the night.

When she awoke Sunday and approached Denita and Chantelle in the kitchen for breakfast, Chantelle asked her if she’d heard the phone ring earlier.  She confirmed she’d not, and Chantelle informed her that Rennie had been called earlier by the sheriff, who’d requested he accompany him to Lake Martin to fix some stairs for an elderly man who lived alone out there.  The man had fallen through one of several steps leading to his house a few days before.  He could no longer exit the house with the damage to the steps so he had stayed home, trying to nurse the injury to his foot from the fall.  He’d become completely immobile by the fourth day and was out of food and water, so called his priest, who then called 9-1-1.  The man was refusing to leave the house for the hospital because he was so worried about the broken steps, so, Rennie agreed to go out with the sheriff to assure the man he could leave the house and Rennie would stay and fix the steps in his absence.

May Alice asked Chantelle, “What about the kids?”  She was hopeful Rennie might think to bring them out for her, and Chantelle to keep while he was out.

“Unbelievably, the man’s priest is from St. John’s, so, that’s taken care of.”

She didn’t need to explain more; May Alice figured the rest.  When the sheriff told the priest he’d bring Rennie out to take care of the elderly man’s steps, the priest immediately knew who Rennie was, his relation to Arlene, and the involvement of their kids, who would need a sitter.  He’d sent Arlene to the house before the sheriff had even arrived for Rennie.  May Alice laughed at the absurdity.  It was as if fate had suddenly remembered her and decided it hadn’t visited in a while.  She recalled the angry dog in her dream.  _Oh, that’s not obvious,_ she thought sarcastically. 

She, Chantelle and Denita made a day for themselves in spite of their disappointment.  They took May Alice’s boat out for an hour in the mid-afternoon just to have a change of scenery.  Denita finally got to see an alligator in the daylight.  She decided she didn’t really need to see one again anytime soon. 

At the Boudreaux home, the kids were irritated with the events of the weekend as well.  They’d already done their homework during the week in order to have the weekend free.  They didn’t want to go to the library again and they’d gone swimming the day before.  They were mopey and Arlene didn’t know how to cope with that.  She asked if they’d like to attend mass at St. John’s.  To her amazement, they agreed.  She dressed them and packed them into the van in time for the 11:00 a.m. mass. 

The girls were impressed with the beauty of the cathedral.  Jaxon was not, but he wasn’t disruptive and entertained himself with his favorite alligator.  Elizabeth did all right for about ten minutes, but as soon as the ceremonial incense hit her nostrils, she’d had enough.  She began to cough, and cry, and it was evident she was not going to stop.  Arlene moved to lift her but that only infuriated the toddler more, so Acadia took over and assured Arlene she would take her just to the playground outside of the cathedral.  Once outside, Elizabeth continued to fuss, but did stop crying once she and Acadia reached the swings at the playground.  Acadia lifted her into a swing and pushed her gently.  Later they played on the other equipment and Elizabeth returned to a mild state of appeasement.  Neither girl returned to the mass but Arlene did pop out of the service twice to check on the girls.

Following mass, Arlene treated the kids to lunch at the diner and then they returned home.  Sabine noticed the light blinking on the answering machine and told Acadia, who played the message which was from Rennie, telling them he thought he’d be home by 4:00 p.m.  The kids dispersed the rest of the afternoon, some reading, others playing in the neighborhood.  Elizabeth, as usual, was the exception and wouldn’t participate with anything.  However, she did find her way on to1` Rennie’s bed where she lay quietly with her stuffed rabbit for a while before falling asleep.  Once asleep, Arlene recalled that she’d not seen Elizabeth eat much at the diner.  She’d ordered her a grilled cheese, but over half of it was still on the plate when they finished.  She vowed to remember to discuss that with Rennie later. 

With Elizabeth asleep and the other kids in the yard or the neighbor’s yard, Arlene ventured into the girls’ room to straighten up after them.  In her tidying, she came across a small homemade looking binder titled “The Adventures of Acadia”.  The story was handwritten and had illustrations in water colors.  She quickly realized the book was about her Acadia.  She read every word and recognized some features about the heroine in the story.  The story was smart and funny, and Arlene could not imagine where it came from.  Her question was answered by an inscription on the last page, in the same handwriting that penned the book.  

_For my dear Miss Acadia,_

_You are wise, loving, and talented beyond your years.  I wish you all the love and happiness you bring to the rest of us, for all the days of your life, but especially on this day, the 12 th anniversary of the day God blessed the World with you.  _

_Love, May Alice_

For the second time that weekend, Arlene found herself stunned by news about the presence of this woman in her family’s life.  This time, however, she could not help but be touched by the words written to her daughter in that little book.  She knew, without any thought at all, she’d never said anything nearly as meaningful to her daughter as this woman had in that note.  She carefully placed the binder where she’d found it and left the room.

Rennie returned from Lake Martin at 5:30 p.m. just as the kids were sitting down for dinner with Arlene.  She motioned for him to sit, knowing he’d had a long day.  She served him roast and potatoes before he even realized he was allowing her to do so.  It felt too familiar and that bothered him, but he was exhausted, and grateful she’d been able to be with the kids all day.  He’d have liked for them to have had the day with May Alice, even if he couldn’t, but it was early when he’d gotten the call and he had no idea how long he’d be out.  Knowing the kids would be home and in bed, on time, if things went badly, was worth a lot of peace of mind.  He accepted the kindness and ate, and caught up on what the kids had done all day.  He was surprised they’d agreed to attend mass, and when he learned of Elizabeth’s insolence, he just looked at the girl and said, “You need to apologize to your Maw and Sissy.” 

The girl looked down at her plate and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”  It was not very sincere, but he knew she was having a hard time and he wasn’t up to making any more of it.

Once dinner was over, Arlene gathered her things to return to the dormitory, and she asked Rennie if he would walk her out.  She’d not spoken to him directly since she’d walked out on him at the rose garden the day before so he thought maybe it was a good sign she was ready to speak to him again.  As they left the house, she told him, only, that Elizabeth had not eaten much at lunch and again at dinner.  She’d watched, but the girl did not have but part of a potato and one carrot and maybe two bites of the roast.  Rennie said he would keep an eye on her and make sure she ate better at breakfast and then he thanked her and bid her an unceremonious good night.  He returned to the house, helped the girls clear the table and put the food away, and then he sat on the couch and called Elizabeth over. 

She climbed into his lap and looked at him and said, sincerely, “I’m sorry, Pa.”

He held her in a tight hug and said, “You don’t owe me an apology.  I am sorry our weekend didn’t go the way we wanted.  I just needed to hold you for a little bit, okay?”  She smiled at him and held him around his neck.  Soon, Jaxon had wormed his way on to the couch with them, and Rennie wrapped an arm around the boy as well.  He put the girl to bed a bit later and Jaxon soon after that.  The older girls also said goodnight and when the house fell silent he called May Alice.

They compared notes on the day, and that night, it was her that knew he was tired.  She said she loved him, and she missed him, but she was happy he could help out the man in Lake Martin.  “You’re a good man, Rennie.  And you’re a tired man, so, go get some sleep.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep saying good night to you over the phone,” he said.

He heard her, now familiar, “hmmm,” and then she said, “Good night, Honey.”

She hung up her receiver and fought down the lump that formed in her throat following his words.  This was the longest they’d ever gone, since her return in March, without seeing one another, and she knew exactly how he felt.  She was revisited by the memory of the vicious dog in her dream from the night before, and just as she thought she’d be overcome by its ominous imagery, she recalled that she had been the victor in the battle, and she went to sleep feeling a little less vulnerable, as though some hidden force within her was keeping vigil over her when she needed it most.


	32. 32

**Chapter 32**

Fortunately, Monday and Tuesday went more smoothly than the weekend for the Boudreaux’s routine.  The only minor hitch was, Rennie, suddenly, had more work than he knew what to do with.  He would arrive to do a job, and be presented by either another one, or requested for another bid.  He was grateful for the work, of course, but he could barely find time to even call May Alice, much less see her between the work and the routine of his family. 

Not being a shy visitor to the families, fate arrived in their life once again that Wednesday.  The morning had gone off fine, everyone getting where they needed to be.  Chantelle had driven May Alice into town for her monthly check in with Louise.  Rennie had each of the kids off to school, and his day would be full with one of the many jobs he had pending, even though a heavy storm had rolled in and was predicted to last most of the day.  As the women drove to the Physical Therapy offices, Chantelle noticed how quiet May Alice had been all morning.  She knew May Alice had been writing a lot in the absence of Rennie and the kids, so, she hoped she was lost in a story plot, but more likely, she thought, May Alice was stressing over Elizabeth and the impending storm.  The little girl had only recently begun to be less frightened by the loud thunder that accompanied summer squalls, but the biggest reason for that was probably May Alice’s presence with her during them.  Being apart was having an effect on all of them, but Chantelle knew the storm that day would definitely be a challenge for Elizabeth and, thus, May Alice and she became a little anxious for both of them.

Louise was busily asking May Alice the usual string of questions during her monthly assessment.  As usual she was impressed with the lack of atrophy in May Alice’s legs, proof she was still able and willing to continue the standing exercises.  May Alice affirmed and added, that with the swimming, all her exercises seemed much easier.  When Louise pressed May Alice’s abdomen, a usual part of her exam, she felt something she’d not in the past.  May Alice had a powerful core, so she was used to the resistance those muscles provided, but this was different.

“Does this hurt?” Louise asked, applying some pressure just under May Alice’s navel.

“No.  Is something wrong?”

“Not necessarily.  When was your last period?”

“What?  Why?”  May Alice asked.  Louise stopped her probing and paused a moment, trying to recall something.

“Could you be pregnant?”  Louise asked. 

May Alice’s first instinct was to laugh out loud at the thought, but she didn’t.  She didn’t respond at all for a moment, suddenly, shocked less by the question than the possible answer.  “I don’t-” she started, but stopped because as soon as she tried to process the question, one seemingly minor incident from earlier in the summer came rushing back, apparently to Louise as well; it was the same something she’d been trying to recall.

“When did your O.b. take you off the pill; the one that was making you sick?”

“Uh, the end of June, I guess. . . right after my last period that month.”

“You didn’t mention to him that you were having sex?”

“I wasn’t!” May Alice protested, and then she remembered that first amazing night with Rennie, the 3rd of July.  “It’s not possible, right?  I mean, it’s supposed to take longer to. . . and then I started the new prescription and it made me sick too, so I stopped it but,” she looked pleadingly at Louise, “we used other things, you know, until I could. . . oh, my God. . .” the enormity of the question was settling in on her.

Louise gave her a few moments.  She could tell the woman’s mind was moving in a million directions at once.  “May Alice, if it’s possible you conceived in those first two weeks, it might not have been the new pills that made you ill.  Have you had morning sickness since you stopped the second prescription?”

“No, not at all.”

“But still no period?”

“No, but the doc said it could take several months,” May Alice was looking at Louise as if begging her for agreement. 

“Well, you need to get a test, you need to be sure.  There are things you’ll need to prepare for.”  Louise said with a mix of professionalism and care.  She noted that May Alice hadn’t really addressed the part of the question, “was it possible”, but she surmised from her brief exam, and May Alice’s rationalizations and pained expression, it was absolutely possible.  She finished up her assessment in the next several minutes, while May Alice was sucked into a vortex of thoughts, and feelings, and fears.  Louise felt for the woman; this had to be a shock; aside from the physical challenges, if the father was the married man May Alice once mentioned, she knew the hardships would only intensify.  She helped May Alice to the edge of the exam table and tried to offer her some parting words of comfort, but stopped, thinking it was equally possible she could be mistaken.  Still, she wanted to be sure May Alice heard her the first time.  “Get a test done and we’ll go from there, okay?”

May Alice absently nodded and returned to her wheelchair.  Louise rolled her out to a waiting Chantelle, who immediately feared something awful had resulted with the exam because May Alice looked more stressed than she had when they arrived. 

“She’s fine,” Louise said, before Chantelle could ask.  “She’s just a little tired.  You two are doing a great job with her therapy, really.  She’s in excellent physical health.”  She patted May Alice lightly on the shoulder as the women left.

May Alice was just as silent on the drive home and Chantelle began to wonder about the exam, but knew Louise wouldn’t lie to her about May Alice being fine.  Still, for nothing awful going on, May Alice’s demeanor was night and day between their arrival and departure from the therapy clinic, indicating some larger worry than Elizabeth and the storm.  She knew that May Alice would eventually divulge what was happening, but already, her mind was running wild with various scenarios.  By the time they reached the house, Chantelle decided she needed to know one thing, right then.  She put the car in park but didn’t move to get out.  She turned to face May Alice and said, “Listen, I know Louise said nothing was wrong, but clearly there is something you weren’t prepared to hear.”  May Alice looked frightened, as though Chantelle was going to demand to know, right then.  “You can tell me about it, or not, but if it’s something that would mean Denita shouldn’t stay, I need to get her –“

May Alice interrupted her immediately, “Oh, no, no, Chantelle, it’s nothing like that; I promise.  I’m so sorry to make you think it would be anything that dire.”  She felt terrible that she hadn’t given thought to how her silence might have led Chantelle to the worst conclusion.

Relieved, and satisfied, Chantelle said, simply, “Okay,” and moved out, and around the car to help May Alice.

Those were the last words May Alice spoke for the next two hours.  Once inside the house, she went directly to her bedroom; she had no idea what to do.  She wasn’t tired, she knew she couldn’t concentrate enough to write, she wasn’t happy, she wasn’t sad, but she was worried, and for many reasons.  Looking out her new large picture window, she watched the trees blowing in the yard and the rain as it pounded the water in the river.  She began to shake uncontrollably, which both frightened, and embarrassed her.  At the same time, she was overcome by a particular memory of her mother.  She recalled the day she was to depart for the Academy of the Sacred Heart her sophomore year in High School.  She’d not felt that she and her mother were unusually close, like many southern mothers and daughters seemed to be, but when her mother took her by her shoulders and asked her if she was sad, she recalled saying yes, and breaking down in her mother’s arms.  _How had she known?_ May Alice always wondered.   _I didn’t even know I was sad,_ she recalled.  The shaking subsided within a few minutes, so, she was no longer frightened by it, and she was relieved that Chantelle would not have to see her this way. 

She wasn’t sure how much longer she sat alone in the room before Chantelle popped her head in and asked, quietly, “Do you need anything?”

May Alice shook her head and said, “Thanks.”

As Chantelle turned to leave, both women noticed a van coming down the long driveway.  Chantelle moved to the front door and May Alice followed behind.  The van parked and the women watched as Acadia stepped out of the passenger side into the rain and ran toward the house.  The driver, they then realized, was Arlene.  Chantelle and May Alice exchanged shocked glances and braced for whatever might be about to happen.  Chantelle opened the door and welcomed Acadia, who immediately began breathlessly explaining their presence.  “Miss May Alice, Lizzie’s havin’ a terrible fit!  She’s been upset for days, but today, the school had to call for her to be picked up.  Maw got her an hour ago and she can’t stop her from crying.”  Indeed, the woman was struggling with the toddler, who was obviously in the midst of such a terrible tantrum, Arlene could barely hold on to her.  She’d just arrived at the door as Acadia was finishing the highlights.

Chantelle ushered the frazzled mother in and instructed Acadia to go to the hallway cabinets and retrieve some towels for them to dry off with.  Elizabeth was inconsolable.  She was beet red and nearly hoarse from crying.  She was so hysterical, none of them were sure she even knew where she was.  Arlene was busy trying to settle her while at the same time, apologizing to the women for showing up in such a manner.  She explained, “I pulled Acadia from school hoping she could calm Lizzie.  We’ve never seen her like this and nothing is working.  Acadia thought maybe. . .” she looked pleadingly at May Alice and didn’t finish; she didn’t have to.

May Alice quickly sprang into action.  “It’s fine,” she said, while reaching out for Elizabeth.  Arlene hesitated a moment, then handed the squealing child over.  “Chantelle,” May Alice said calmly even over the screams of the child, “Could you please get me some cold washcloths?”  Acadia had returned with towels for she and Arlene, and May Alice instructed her, “honey, will you please get Elizabeth’s yellow blanket from my room?”  Both Acadia and Chantelle departed without hesitation.  Arlene patted her soaked clothes with the towel, unsure of what else to do while trying to ignore the implication of why her daughter had a yellow blanket in this woman’s house.

May Alice began to speak softly to Elizabeth in effort to, at least, help her understand where she was.  She hoped her voice and embrace would feel familiar and comforting to the girl, and she kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair, like she always would when the girl was frightened or upset.  Elizabeth continued to squirm and cry and she was pulling at her ear.  Acadia returned with the blanket, and Chantelle, with the wet cloths.  May Alice then looked to Chantelle and asked her if she wouldn’t mind making some hot tea for Arlene and Acadia, who both followed Chantelle into the kitchen.  She wheeled into her bedroom with Elizabeth squirming in her lap and was able to get her onto the bed.  She placed one of the washcloths on the child’s head, and one behind her neck while she worked to remove her clothes.  She noticed, Elizabeth, only days away from turning four, was back in a diaper.  She removed that too, and proceeded to wipe the girl down with the cool cloths, still speaking softly to her, assuring her everything was going to be fine.  Elizabeth drew in a deep, shuddering breath and finally stopped twisting her body and screaming.  Acadia had returned to the bedroom to see if she could help and May Alice had her rewet the washcloths and they wiped the girl down once more.  Some of the redness had gone away but she was still visibly in distress and was still crying.  May Alice wrapped her snugly in the soft yellow blanket that had become one of Elizabeth’s favorites and, finally.  May Alice was able to pick her up again and snuggle her in her arms.

“She has a fever,” May Alice told Acadia without alarm, and still speaking calmly and quietly, “Will you have Chantelle get some of the baby aspirin, please?”

When Chantelle arrived in the room with the aspirin, she felt Elizabeth’s head then placed a thermometer in her mouth.  She confirmed, the girl had a fever and they gave her an aspirin.

“What do you think?” May Alice asked her, “Ear infection?”

“That seems likely based on the scratches to her scalp there by her ear.  Should I call a doctor?”

May Alice had to think about that, worried about what Arlene might do, or think, or say.  “I don’t know.”  She was struggling, this was dicey territory; everything had changed with Arlene’s return and she hated having to consider her now.  “How’s she doing?” indicating Arlene.

“Fine, I guess.”

May Alice kissed Elizabeth on the head again.  The girl had stopped crying and seemed to be comprehending where she was.  May Alice felt some of the rigidity in her little body relax and she held eye contact with May Alice for the first time since she’d arrived.  “I suppose,” May Alice acquiesced, “let her know what we know an . . . let her decide.”  She could barely finish the last three words, as memories of Arlene’s treatment of Acadia when she was so ill, came rushing back.  She knew Rennie would do the right thing, but having to acknowledge that she could not reach him, and she could not make the simple decision to call a doctor, broke her heart.  She spoke to Elizabeth again, assuring her everything was going to be all right, and then she hummed their favorite tune to her, like she would during storms past which helped comfort them both.

Chantelle returned to the bedroom a few minutes later and said Arlene was preparing to leave since it was nearly time for the other kids to get out of school.  She placed her hand on May Alice’s shoulder and said, “She wants to take Elizabeth too.”

May Alice looked up in shock.  She’d only just gotten the girl calmed down and she was noticeably ill, why would Arlene want to take her?  She couldn’t believe it, and it incensed her.  “No,” she said sternly, “I won’t let her,” she whispered and held Elizabeth a little tighter to her. 

“You can’t stop her, May Alice.”  The words were not spoken harshly, but they were harsh words that May Alice already knew were true.

“Maybe Acadia can talk to her?” She pleaded. 

“She tried.”  Chantelle moved to pick up the girl’s clothes from the bed.  She folded them neatly and sat a moment.  The she looked at May Alice and said, “Come on.”

May Alice reluctantly followed her out with Elizabeth still firmly in her arms and still questioning Arlene’s motives.  Regardless of the justification the woman might have had, May Alice fought hard to hold back tears, refusing to let Arlene see how much she could hurt her.  Arlene thanked May Alice for calming the girl down and said she would get the other kids and try to find, and get Elizabeth to the doctor right away, then she reached out for Elizabeth.  Immediately, the child registered what was about to happen, and she clung to May Alice tighter than May Alice knew she was physically capable of.  Arlene pulled at the girl, humiliated that Elizabeth was already reacting.  She cried out with what was left of her little voice and said “Mama!” while reaching out for May Alice.  She began to bawl as hard as she had when they’d arrived.  May Alice was frozen.  She was horrified at the scene, and at having Elizabeth ripped from her like that.  She wanted to scream out herself, but wouldn’t allow Arlene the satisfaction.  Instead, she tried her own appeal to the woman, “Arlene, she is frightened and she doesn’t feel well, can’t you please just leave her and return with Rennie?”

“She will be fine; you all baby her too much.  I promise you I will get her to a doctor, Miss Culhane, you don’t need to worry.”  She turned and walked out the door with Elizabeth, ignoring her pained cries, and ordering Acadia to follow along.

Acadia had tears in her eyes too; she was scared, and maybe, embarrassed for her mother.  She ran to May Alice, threw her arms around her and said, “I’m so sorry Miss Ma, I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“It was the right thing, honey,” May Alice assured her, tearfully.  “You did the right thing.”

“Acadia!” they heard Arlene yelling, from outside.

“You go on, now,” May Alice said, trying to be strong for the girl, “Try to help Elizabeth now, she is not well, okay?”

“Okay,” and she turned and ran out the door.

Before the van was even out of the driveway, Chantelle heard May Alice’s breath hitch in her throat and then she began to shake, and cry.  Chantelle bent down to her friend and put her arms around her and held her until the shaking stopped several minutes later. 

Once the trauma of Arlene’s exit had subsided a bit, May Alice reminded Chantelle she needed to get Denita from the bus stop.  “She’ll get soaked if you let you her walk,” she said quietly.  Convinced May Alice was all right for the moment, she agreed and grabbed an umbrella and the keys to the car.  May Alice moved back into her room, wearied by the events of the day, and just wanting to shut the world out for a bit.  She closed the door behind her, which she rarely ever did.  She lifted herself on to her bed and took some deep breaths, trying to alleviate some of the soreness that had settled into in her muscles.  She couldn’t shake the feel of Elizabeth’s grip on her when Arlene removed her from her arms and she knew she would never forgive Arlene for that.  For the second time that day, May Alice recalled her own mother.  She wondered if her mother would think May Alice a coward for not fighting for the girl.  Her tears started to form again as she felt the permeable frustration that accompanied her anytime she was rendered truly helpless.  She lay back into the bed and, eventually, exhausted herself enough to sleep.

Chantelle let her sleep for a couple of hours, but when dinner was ready, opted to make May Alice get up and eat with her and Denita.  May Alice accommodated, joining them at the table, but ate very little.  The unusual nap and the not eating were noticed by Denita.  “Miss May Alice, are you sick?” she asked with concern.

May Alice looked up and tried to smile for the girl, without success.  “No, honey; I just had a really bad day.”

“I’m sorry,” Denita said, and then she made her way over to May Alice and gave her a small hug.  Denita was happy to see that when they released from the embrace, May Alice had found a smile for her.  The trio cleared the table and Chantelle prepared a plate to keep in the refrigerator in case May Alice got hungry later on. 

“Ben left another message, I kept it for you.”  Chantelle said.

“Okay, thanks.” 

Ben had been calling her at least once a week since the second week of the play’s opening.  He was thrilled with the result, and he kept insisting she needed to see it, and lately, it seemed to her like he wanted it more for her benefit than his own, which was intriguing.  She had continuously discounted his offer, believing it was just Ben being Ben, and knowing she had no desire to give up any time with the kids during the summer.  Additionally, she’d explained the complications of bringing Chantelle, now that Denita was more permanently a part of their lives.  Still, as she considered their last conversations, along with everything else inundating her thoughts that evening, she began to think about how nice a respite from those thoughts could be.  What if she did jet off to New York for a few days?  Maybe that would clear her head?  She and Ben were in a good place with their new, business-only relationship, of that she was sure.  Rennie was plenty busy for the next several weeks.  The children were re-assimilating with school and Arlene, and it became fairly clear that afternoon that May Alice might never be allowed to fit into those dynamics.  And then there was the heaviest of her issues; if she was, in fact, pregnant, . well, she reasoned, she would not likely have another chance to see the play.  Ben had been upping the stakes lately; in their last conversation, he vowed he would have a flight chartered for her so she wouldn’t have to endure a commercial flight, he had the Plaza Hotel’s booking manager on speed-dial and he would guarantee her suite at a moment’s notice, and Ben even claimed to have a nurse hired to assist her if Chantelle couldn’t get away.  Whether or not she was seriously entertaining the idea of going to New York, the thought distracted her enough to keep her sane the rest of that evening.

Shortly before bedtime, she recalled the dream she’d had about the dog.  She recalled how calmly, in the dream, she’d dispatched the threat, and like before, she felt empowered by it.  She would have sworn at the same time, she heard her mother’s voice saying _trust yourself_.  Was that anything her mother had ever actually said to her?  She fell asleep trying to recall.

She realized the following morning, Rennie had not called.  She knew he’d be busy with Elizabeth but she was hurt, she deserved to know what was happening with the girl.  She felt herself becoming angry again, but quickly tabled the emotion with Denita’s presence.  She had come down stairs, ready to eat breakfast and head off to school and she was happy that May Alice looked much better than she had the night before.  Once she’d eaten and departed, May Alice prepared for her swim therapy and she and Chantelle enjoyed the drive in the sunshine that, happily, followed the previous day’s rain. 

At therapy, May Alice worked harder than Ross, her pool therapist, had ever seen.  She did all the usual exercises and then had done some laps.   Through the summer, she had worked her way up to doing laps with assistance from floats that kept her legs from pulling her down.  She was completing her sixth lap that morning, when Ross stopped her.   “You only did four last time and it kicked your ass.  What’s going on today?  Someone after you?” he only partially joked.

“I didn’t realize I had done that many,” she said, a little breathless.  She had released her anger in the therapy and, apparently, it worked.  She was winded and starting to feel a little lightheaded.  Ross noticed and pulled her from the pool and made her lay on the ground a few moments while he inquired about how she was feeling.

“I just didn’t eat a lot last night, or this morning, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re done for today,” he declared.  Chantelle had returned for her by then, as well.  She helped May Alice dry off and get changed and they headed home.  By the time they were done, May Alice was exhausted.  She was glad for that because it felt far more welcoming than the anxieties of the previous day. 

Once home, Chantelle, after having been briefed by Ross on the obvious lack of nutrition that morning, told May Alice she could either eat some eggs or she’d have to start drinking Ensure to make up for the loss of appetite.  Although she just wanted to sleep, May Alice agreed to the eggs and also managed a small ham slice and more fruit to compliment that of what she’d had before therapy.  She’d finished her second breakfast by 11:00 a.m. and Chantelle then helped her to her room to nap.  On the way, May Alice looked at the answering machine which showed no new messages.  Rather than feeling anger however, she reasoned instead that if anything were really wrong, Rennie would have called. 


	33. 33

**Chapter 33 (M rate)**

Rennie knew exactly what he wanted to do that Wednesday.  Regardless of his having plenty of work, he’d planned it all around the day, knowing he wanted to spend it all with May Alice.  He didn’t tell her; it was one of two surprises he’d planned for her birthday.  He was eager to spend the day with her for all the obvious reasons, but he’d also felt bad that he’d neglected to make time for just her, noting that, the something different, he’d noticed about her before, had not dissipated, not even following their last weekend together. He wanted to know what might be behind the reason for whatever it was.

He arrived at her home that morning to find her relaxing in her spacious new bathtub.  Instead of following through on his plan, to find out of what was going on with her, he’d allowed her to distract him with a spontaneous lovemaking session in the tub.  For whatever may have seemed different about her, her intimacy with him was not it.  Following that welcomed interruption, the couple dressed and May Alice asked him when he had to be at work.  He briefed her on the plan that would be replacing his need to be at work that day.  She listened dumfounded, and very excited.  They would take the boat out, which meant going to one of Rennie’s favorite spots, and that usually resulted in more of what they’d just done in her tub.  Then they’d return, pick up Elizabeth at school, and return to her house where he would make dinner.  The girls would be directed, by Mrs. Flowers, to ride Denita’s bus home that day instead of their usual one.  They would all spend the early evening together as agreed.  He had told Arlene she’d not need to come that afternoon, he would pick up the kids.  He told her he had something special planned with them, and didn’t explain further.  May Alice was thrilled by everything he’d described, both because it was perfect, and because it meant she had him for the whole day.  It was going to be a very good birthday.

Chantelle had been aware of Rennie’s plan in advance.  She’d arranged to bake the birthday cake with the girls upon their return from school and, fortunately, for Rennie, she’d been at the store when he arrived in the morning and found May Alice in the tub.  Chantelle returned a little before they left for the river.  She wished May Alice a happy birthday and presented her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  The pair then departed.

Once arriving at a favorite, secluded cove, Rennie prepared a spot, on shore, for May Alice on the thick blanket, under the shade of the trees, but, unlike the usual routine, he did not bait his fishing line before moving her there.  Instead, he returned to the boat and sat, facing her, and looked at her.  He was not smiling, but he was not unhappy; she didn’t quite know how to read him. 

“What?” she prompted, cautiously; curious, and a little unnerved, by his stillness. 

He didn’t answer right away; he looked out across the water, and then he reached into his front pocket and pulled something from it.  He took her hand in his and returned his gaze to her.  “I would give up this river, and everything in it, to be with you,” he said.

“Why would you have to?” she questioned, not following him, at all.  He chuckled at his failure to convey what he wanted to. 

“I just mean I love you more than any of it.  I don’t want to be without you one day longer, and I would be the happiest man God ever created, if you would be my wife.”  With that, he opened his hand and revealed a dainty ring that he placed on her finger.

“Rennie,” she breathed, stunned, frightened, elated; she couldn’t find the right words, even though, one would do.  She reached out for his face and pulled him in to kiss her.  When they parted, she said, with tears now flowing, “I will be your wife.  I will, very happily, be your wife.”  He pulled her from her wheelchair and embraced her, full bodied, for some of the best several minutes of his life.  Then he lifted her, and moved to her to the blanket on shore.  He sat beside her, and she leaned against him and wrapped an arm around his, and held her hand out toward the water to admire the ring. 

“It’s beautiful.  It’s an antique.”  She could tell from the design; they didn’t make rings like that anymore.

“It was my mother’s engagement ring.  I found it when I cleaned out my daddy’s house after he died.”  Knowing Rennie’s father had passed some years after he and Arlene were already married, assured her she was the only one he’d given it to, and she loved him all the more for that. 

She turned to him and kissed him again, and very soon after, Rennie moved himself over her and began working his kisses down her neck toward her breasts.  He took his time, wanting to savor the day and assure May Alice was ready for him when the time came.  He was lifting her top to gain better access when she stopped him.  He looked at her, confused, and saw she had a like expression on her face.  “Something’s wrong,” she said.  She gripped his shoulders for assistance to sit up and she worked to cover herself with her top.

Worried, Rennie also sat up and began looking her over.  “Are you hurt; what is it?”

“No, it’s not like that.  It’s . . . like we shouldn’t be here.”  Rennie looked around, thinking maybe she thought someone was near, or watching them.

“I don’t see anything,” he offered.  He was still hot, and wanted her; he moved to kiss her again and she reluctantly lay back down.  His hands moved to her hips where he began to remove her pants and she stopped him again. 

They were both breathing heavily, but she managed to say, “I think we should leave.  Something’s not right.”  He looked at her again, and that time, saw the alarm in her eyes.

“Okay, it’s okay.  I’ll get us out of here.”  He quickly moved her from the blanket to the boat, ran back and picked up their belongings, and returned to the boat, and moved them out of the arm of the river, toward home.  Once in the main channel he slowed the boat and asked if she was all right.  She still looked apprehensive, but nodded that she was.

“I’m sorry, Rennie.  I really am,” she said.  She had no idea what was plaguing her.  She had a foreboding sense of something, big enough to overshadow her elation over Rennie’s proposal.  She was scared, wondering if something was happening to her, to her body where she could no longer feel.  Rennie sped the boat toward home hoping to assuage whatever was troubling her, but rather than dissipating, as they finally neared her dock, her apprehension had grown.  The house looked fine, the car and Rennie’s truck were both there; nothing looked amiss.  Rennie docked them and May Alice started to ask him to go into the house before he removed her from the boat, but she’d not had time to even finish her request when Chantelle came out of the house toward them.  She didn’t look panicked like they were, but she was moving quickly toward them.

“The nurse from Elizabeth’s school called.  She’s not doing well,” she informed them.  Because Rennie was going to pick up Elizabeth himself that afternoon, he’d left May Alice’s number with the school, anticipating that’s where he’d be all day.  The girl had not been ill, but maybe the infection in her ear had returned, he guessed. 

Once he and Chantelle had settled May Alice back on shore, May Alice motioned him to go for the girl.  “We’re fine, you go on and get her,” May Alice said, still worried, but not panicked like before.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Chantelle said, as they watched Rennie leave.  “That was fortunate, I didn’t want to call Arlene.”  Then she noticed the anxious look on May Alice’s face.  She asked if she was just worried about Elizabeth. 

“Yes, that’s all,” she said, relieved, as she watched Rennie’s truck until it was no longer visible.  Then she proceeded to explain just how oddly she and Rennie had come to be back so soon.  As she relayed the story, her sudden fit of unease, she knew she was not in distress, it had been Elizabeth.  It eased her mind and she was happy they had arrived home before Chantelle had to call Arlene and ruin what was left of her birthday.  She didn’t think about the fact that she somehow felt Elizabeth’s call.

Rennie, having arrived in record time at the kindergarten, sat, with Elizabeth on his lap, while he listened to the school nurse talk.  She’d introduced him to a doctor-someone but, Rennie was too worried, looking Elizabeth over for a sign of illness, to recall the name.  “

Mr. Boudreaux,” the doctor said, trying to command Rennie’s attention, “your daughter is not physically ill.”  That worked to pull Rennie’s full attention.  The doctor explained that, the previous week, the school nurse had observed Elizabeth in her classroom and noticed she was not playing with the other children.  She had requested the Lafayette Public School send out the staff child psychologist for another observation.  He, was that psychologist, and he had provided an observation and examination, that morning.  Admittedly, said the nurse, Elizabeth was far worse that morning than even the week prior.  “Your child is showing classic signs of depression,” the doctor said, stoically. 

Rennie couldn’t believe his ears. “She’s barely four,” he said, incredulous; never realizing a child so young could experience depression. 

The doctor went on to explain that, while unusual for a child of her age to exhibit such symptoms, it was not unheard of.  As he rambled on with statistics, Elizabeth sat quietly in Rennie’s lap, barely moving and not talking; she hadn’t even really acknowledged him when he’d arrived, but did not hesitate to go to him when he held out his arms for her.  He held her tightly, clinging to her little body, while enduring the weight of what the doctor was wanting from him.  He wanted Rennie to schedule an appointment with him, or he could recommend any number of other child psychologists, he added pleasantly, to discuss treatment for the girl.  He began talking about medications, and therapy, and finally Rennie could take no more. 

“I would like to take her home now,” he said.  “I appreciate this information and I will be in contact with you if she doesn’t improve.”

“She will not likely improve without help, Mr. Boudreaux, that is what I’m trying to explain to you,” the doctor said.

“Yes, I understand,” he said, even though he didn’t, and he moved to leave the room.  On his way out, he did stop and thank the two for their assistance.

The nurse patted Elizabeth’s back, and said to Rennie, “She’s a sensitive child, Mr. Boudreaux.  She will be all right, with the right help.”  He nodded and departed.

Once in the truck, Rennie turned to Elizabeth and reached for her cheek.  She looked up at him for the first time that afternoon.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I’m so sorry I didn’t understand.”  Tears fell from his eyes, and he had to wait a few minutes for them to stop so he could drive.

The pair returned to the Culhane home immediately.  Rennie, adrift over Elizabeth’s appearance and the news about her, needed May Alice to anchor him.  He carried Elizabeth into the living room where May Alice and Chantelle were approaching, asking why he’d not taken her to the doctor.  May Alice quickly surmised, from the look on his face, this was not a recurring ear infection.  She instinctively reached for him, but, of course, she could not embrace him from her chair.  In response, he knelt down with the girl in his arms and looked up at her.

“She quit talking.  She hasn’t been playing, and she’s not been eating.  The bed-wetting, it was all right there, and I just didn’t see it.”  He was utterly defeated.

Chantelle bent down beside him, and stroked Elizabeth’s hair, and asked, “They think she’s depressed?”

“Yes.  How is that possible?”  He needed to know.

“Kids are sensitive; they pick up on things, and some of them just can’t process what they’re feeling.”  Chantelle said.  “There are lots of things you can do, and maybe, it’s just acute,” she assured him.

“They mentioned therapy, and drugs.  She’s just a _baby,”_ he said.

“It’ll be okay,” Chantelle responded, “come on, come have some lunch, and talk.”  She helped him up and Elizabeth looked weary enough that Chantelle suggested May Alice take her to her bed and let her nap a bit.

Rennie placed the girl in May Alice’s arms and kissed her again on the head.  Then, he followed Chantelle into the kitchen while May Alice wheeled into her bedroom.  She laid Elizabeth down, and asked her if she wanted to sleep.  The girl looked at her, but had little expression, and no answer.  It broke May Alice’s heart to see her like that. _Only days before, she was almost back to her normal self; or had she missed something too_?  She had not gotten Elizabeth’s favorite yellow blanket back since that terrible day, with Arlene, so, she took one of her own t-shirts from a drawer and wrapped the girl in it, hopeful that the scent might lend some comfort to Elizabeth.  The girl quickly fell asleep.

May Alice joined Chantelle and Rennie and the trio engaged in the heavy topic for a solid hour before the girls, and Jaxon, arrived from the bus stop.  The talk had done them all good.  They knew Elizabeth best, and they quickly discounted starting treatment with drugs.  Rennie was certain that if he just spent time with her, she would be all right.  Chantelle tried to be encouraging, but knew that his plan, alone, might not be enough.  Therapy, they concurred, would be considered if nothing else worked.

The kids arrived, and were excited following school and the bus ride that was not their usual one, and equally excited for May Alice’s birthday.  They’d wanted to shower her with homemade gifts, like she had done for each of them that summer.  Chantelle had also told them they could decorate the cake, and Acadia couldn’t wait to try a flower design in edible paint to place on the frosting.  Each adult put their best foot forward to greet the jovial gang and, for the most part, they were successful, placing their worry on temporary hold, to help Rennie prepare dinner, and helping the girls with frosting the cake. 

Just before dinner, Rennie went to roust Elizabeth from her nap.  She woke and seemed a little better.  She perked up when she saw all the kids around the table, talking and having fun.  They each greeted her too, with little pecks on the cheek, or outright hugs.  Only Jaxon noticed that she was clinging to the t-shirt May Alice had wrapped her in, like it was a blanket.  He laughed, and said her bunny was going to be really mad about being replaced.  She giggled at her brother, which helped the adults relax a little.

The families ate the dinner Rennie had prepared.  It was an easy recipe they all loved.  Boiled crawfish, red potatoes, corn and sausage Cajun style – meaning, tossed out on the table, on butcher paper, with no utensils or plates.  Elizabeth, with some help from Rennie, ate a little, and answered questions from her siblings, but she was still not herself, by any means.  When it came time to present May Alice with her cake and her gifts, she asked if Elizabeth would like to help her open the gifts.  The girl held out her arms and Rennie lifted her, and placed her in May Alice’s lap, where she stayed quietly and helped a bit with opening the presents. 

While opening the handmade card from Acadia, that had pressed flowers ironed under wax paper on the front, Acadia exclaimed, “Miss May Alice, did you get a new ring?!”

May Alice blushed and didn’t know what she should respond.  She, and Rennie hadn’t time to discuss how, or when, to tell everyone, having nearly forgotten about that loving gift all together, in the midst of the turmoil with Elizabeth.  She was struggling, when Rennie saved the day.  “I gave it to her, it’s my present to her,” Rennie said and winked at the girls. 

Missy commented, “Wow, Pa, you must really love her.”

“Yes, Missy,” he responded with a smile, “I sure do.”

The significance of the ring may have been lost on the kids, but, it was not on Chantelle.  She looked directly at May Alice and waited for her to meet her gaze.  May Alice could feel the eyes on her, so, she gave in, and looked back at her friend.  Chantelle produced a lovely smile, but shook her head, certain that May Alice had still not told Rennie about the pregnancy. 

Missy, Sabine and Denita had also made, and presented May Alice with, a card.  She was amazed at each one, so carefully designed and executed with things, or drawings of things she loved.  Missy’s simply had sweet words written just for her.  They all spoke about having tried to write her a story, like she’d done for them, but they realized they didn’t really know how to do it, so, they opted for the individual cards instead.  “That’s all right,” she assured them. “I kind of like being the only writer in the family, for now anyway.”  She winked at Sabine, who was actually quite a fine writer already. 

Rennie noticed her easy use of the word family, and it lifted his heart, as he thought of their beautiful morning together.  He was further encouraged when Elizabeth, after all the cards had been opened, finally spoke, and said quietly to May Alice, “I didn’t get you anything, Mama.”

May Alice hugged the girl tight and said “That’s not true, sweetheart.  You gave me the best thing of all.  You are here with me.”  She then looked around the table, to each of them, and continued, “All of you, here with me, is the best gift you could have given me.” 

Denita declared, “Group hug,” and each of the kids made their way to May Alice’s chair and wrapped an arm, or both, around her.  Jaxon was last, and produced a fishing lure from his pocket.  She was happy to notice the hook had been removed. 

“It’s my luckiest one,” he said as he placed it into her hand.  The girls were all amazed, Jaxon loved that lure, and Acadia couldn’t let it pass. 

“Wow, Pa’s not the only one in love with Miss Malice!” she teased, which, of course, mortified the boy. 

He recovered quickly, however, with the presentation of the cake that Chantelle had brought in.  Acadia’s flowers had turned out beautifully in the edible paint, and May Alice declared it was too pretty to eat, but she was quickly outvoted and they delved into the chocolate, and ate it right on the table with their hands, like they had with their country boil dinner. 

Once the cake was about gone, Rennie indicated the time and being a school night, reminded them that they’d all agreed, in advance, that they would leave on time, without fuss.  He instructed them to help with the cleanup, and while they did, he took May Alice out to the back porch.  He sat on a bench next to her, and before he could say anything, she took his hand and said, “I won’t go to New York.”

He laughed, a nervous laugh, and replied, “I want you to go.”  It was the last thing she’d expected, and he knew it would be, so, quickly, he followed up with his reasoning.  “Whatever’s happening to Elizabeth ain’t gonna fix itself overnight.  I just want to spend as much time with her as I can.  I need to focus on her, and see if I can figure what’s best for her.”  He looked at May Alice, “If you’re here, I’ll want to be with you, too.  I need you to go to New York, and I want to you to see your play, and know how good it truly is; and I need you to really think about marrying me, because you’re marrying all of us.  I’d hoped for a better relationship with Arlene for us, but I don’t know if that’s gonna happen, and it’s something you need to consider.  It’s easy to say ‘I love you, I want to be with you’ – it’s exactly how we got here – but, today, is proof, it ain’t gonna be easy.” 

She understood, and she appreciated his having looked beyond the ‘love conquers all’ cliché, but she couldn’t imagine leaving them right then.  He kept on with his plea.  “I want you to go, and enjoy the weekend, and I want you to come home and say to me, ‘Rennie, I love you, and I want to marry you, and your kids.’  And when you do, I’ll tell you that Elizabeth’s gonna be fine, and we’re gonna live happily ever after, and I will not go to my grave until I’ve proven that to you.”

She was speechless over his words.  He’d explained his desire to send her off, and then, truly, she had even more to think about.  _How would another child impact Elizabeth, and all the other kids, and Chantelle?_   She was confident in her first answer to Rennie that day, she would be his wife.  But she would give them this time; she would go to New York, and she would return, and answer him the same. 

As she lay in bed that night, for the first time, in many years, May Alice found herself compelled to pray for each of them.  She’d never lost her faith; she just never appreciated it, nor found a lot of solace in it.  She tried to remember any of the prayers she’d so diligently memorized in school, and soon found some were coming back to her.  She found that equally comforting, and bizarre.  Eventually she opted for simplicity.  She prayed for the strength to endure all that she’d introduced into her life.


	34. 34

**Chapter 34**

The following afternoon, Rennie drove May Alice to the airport.  He’d put all his work on hold again, this time to be with Elizabeth, and she seemed content to stay with Chantelle for the hour he’d be gone.  She didn’t appear any worse to them that day than the previous evening, but she was still not herself. 

When they arrived at Lafayette Regional, a very sleek Learjet was awaiting her arrival.  Rennie couldn’t help but make a dig.  “Nice jet; but I liked your daddy’s planes better.”

“You saw my father’s planes?”

“Oh, yeah.  He used to like to show them off.  He’d fly ‘em over the marina a lot, remember?”  She did.  Rennie then cursed himself for bringing up the memory right before she was to board a plane, fearing it would remind her how her parents died, but she didn’t mind.  She knew how much her father loved to fly, and she knew how much her mother loved her father; she’d never have wished either one to have to live without the other, so, when the tragedy happened, she recalled thinking it was a natural ending that they went down together, a blessing for them both, really, she believed.  It was, of course, bullshit, but it made her feel better and less selfish at the time.

Once inside the small terminal, they watched while the pilot checked the plane’s exterior.  The charter’s flight attendant took May Alice’s bags and stated he’d be right back for her.  May Alice looked up to Rennie and reached for his hand.  He took it in his, bowed down and kissed her. 

“I’ll miss you,” she said. 

“I’ll be here for you Sunday,” he stated, as though reminding her to return.   Twenty minutes later, Rennie waved from the terminal as the jet made its flawless ascent toward New York City.

**0-0-0-0-0**

The Learjet landed at the private terminal at La Guardia it had been chartered from.  They arrived in four hours, at least two hours sooner than any commercial airline would have delivered her.  The hours had been a good start for May Alice’s intended respite.  The charter’s attendant, Randy, sat in the cockpit with the pilot for the majority of the flight, checking on May Alice periodically, but mostly leaving her to her many, and varied, thoughts.  She’d wanted the time to sort out how to tell Rennie about a possible pregnancy, and how to deal with the aftermath, but, following Elizabeth’s ordeal, she had even more doubts than before, that everything could work out.  She vacillated between the best, and worst, case scenarios, and found she was getting nowhere, and was happy for the interruption of their arrival.

Randy carefully carried May Alice down the several short steps of the jet and placed her into her chair, then he wheeled her into the private terminal where she was met by Ben, and his customary bouquet of flowers. 

“May Alice!” Ben exclaimed, as he approached her with open arms.  “What is in the Louisiana water?  You look more beautiful than the last time I saw you, and I hardly thought that was possible.”

“Ben,” she responded as they embraced, “Whatever it is, it’s in New York’s water too, because you look, impossibly, even more handsome than I remember.  And I remember handsome,” she said slyly.  She wasn’t being polite, he was visibly beaming, she thought.

Randy returned with May Alice’s bags and handed them off to Ben’s driver, who was waiting near the doors opposite the tarmac.  He returned to the couple and said good night.  He added that he was looking forward to seeing May Alice again on Sunday, for her return trip. 

As Ben moved the chair toward the limo, May Alice commented on another noticeable difference in him, aside from his absolute glow.  “This is actually a respectable size bouquet.”  The flowers were perfect, but not the usual overblown display.

“I have been informed that my charm sometimes exceeds that of good taste.  You will only receive these. . .and, maybe, one more,” he warned, with a wink.

As the limo made its way into Manhattan, Ben informed her that he’d met her only request and a tailor would be arriving in her suite at 10 a.m. Saturday.  “If I may be so bold,” he added, “the extra couple of pounds look very good on you.” 

She laughed and said, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious.  You are positively radiant.”

“So are you.  Now, what is that about?  What’s going on with you?” She demanded.

“That, I will explain over dinner.”

They’d arrived at a new restaurant; one he’d not taken her to before.  It was fairly modern and boasted an amazing spirits list.  Ben ordered a scotch, a single blend, as they awaited their dinner.  “That’s different,” May Alice noted in regard to his drink choice.

“You know, I always liked scotch, I don’t know why I don’t drink it more.”

“So, come on, tell me.  What’s up with you?”  May Alice couldn’t take it any longer.

He flashed his million-dollar smile at her and said, “I am in love.”

May Alice was stunned; yet, in spite of everything she’d known of this man, she believed him.  “Oh my God – who is she?!”

“Alexandra Addams,” he said flatly, awaiting the response.

“ _Shut up_ ,” May Alice said again, this time, facetiously.

“Hand to God,” Ben said, holding his hand up for emphasis.  He then went on to explain how, from his first meeting with Alexandra, after she’d signed on for “Whisper to a Scream”, he was electrified by her.  He’d been elated to learn, only a week after that first meeting, that she, too, felt the sparks fly between them and they’d been together ever since.

“Well,” May Alice said, “I am impressed.  I never thought you’d date a woman your own age, much less fall in love with one.”  She reached for his hand and squeezed it and continued, “I’m very happy for you, Ben.”

He held on to her hand a moment, and said, “That means a lot to me, my dear friend,” and he raised her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on it before releasing her.  “You’ll meet her tomorrow.  She’s joining us for dinner after the show.  It’s why I wanted you to come in person.  I’m so glad you finally agreed.” 

“I knew it!” she said, “I knew there was something more than just you wanting me to see my – _our_ – play,” she smiled.  “I know you pretty well, Mr. Marley.”

“Intimately,” he reminded her playfully, and she hummed.  “Although you seemed to have missed my clue,” he added.  May Alice then realized that the review, and photograph included in her envelope of clippings from Ben, had been no mistake at all.  “Speaking of that,” he continued, “is there something you want to tell me?”

She panicked for a moment; he couldn’t possibly know about . . . _that_.  “Um,” she fidgeted, “What do you mean?”

“Clearly something, or someone, in Louisiana has captured your attention.  You missed the opening of your very first play, you barely even returned my phone calls, you look amazing, need I go on?”

She immediately recalled Rennie, the kids, the summer, her birthday . . . then, it was her turn to flash a million-dollar smile.  “Guilty,” she said, raising her glass of water to his.   She gave him a, somewhat brief, summary of her unexpected, undeniable fall in love with Rennie.  She was the first to point out the irony of his representing everything she once ran from.  “He’s nothing like anyone you’ve ever met,” she added, for contrast.  “He is, very recently, divorced, has a ton of kids, all under the age of twelve, and I love every one of them.” 

“And she is beaming again,” Ben noted aloud. 

“Well, about that,” she paused, “it seems I went a little overboard with my _love_.”  She emphasized “love”, then looked away for a moment before she explained.  “I am pregnant.”

Ben immediately flagged the waiter, pointed at his hi-ball glass, and said “I’m gonna need another.” 

May Alice squeezed her eyes shut, not sure whether to laugh or cry.  “You win.”  He declared and tipped his glass toward her, and downed the rest of his scotch.  To that, she did laugh, and he continued with sincerity, “That it wonderful news!”  He was truly stunned by the news, but equally elated for her.  And, was wonderful news, but she had tears in her eyes, and he knew that, although, she’d laughed these didn’t appear to be tears of laughter.  He reached for his handkerchief and offered it to her.  She dabbed her eyes and soon composed herself.

“It’s absurd.” she observed, “I can barely take care of myself.”  He tried to understand, but it was all so foreign to him.  She had been, maybe, his closest friend in his adult life, yet, this was not at all the kind of relationship they’d shared.  He didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t part of her new, less-abled life, but he did not doubt that, no matter what, she would be fine.

“We both know that is not true.  You are nothing less than a survivor.  You have beaten how many odds in life?  I, for one, cannot wait to meet the son or daughter of May Alice Culhane.”

He spoke more with her, about Rennie, about “the situation” and in so doing, she realized what she probably had known all along.  There were people who genuinely loved her, and she truly would not have to do this alone.

When she lay down, later that night, in the luxurious bed in the Plaza, she allowed herself a small giggle over Ben’s first reaction to her news, and then she smiled at the thought, that, for their having started out, years before, as a torrid one-night stand, she and Ben had ended up being good partners and supportive friends.

By 10 a.m. the next morning, May Alice felt like she’d run a marathon having maneuvered herself out of bed, into the bath, out of the bath, dressing, and make up; she was exhausted.  _What the hell was I thinking_ , she wondered aloud.  She longed to be lying next to Elizabeth for their Saturday afternoon nap.  Instead, she answered the door of the suite, and met a tall, thin, Italian man who was unmistakably the tailor Ben had arranged for her, and a young girl, she assumed, was his assistant.  She welcomed the pair in and explained she had suit slacks that were in need of alteration.  Ben had briefed the man on May Alice’s limitations and he assured Ben there would be no problem.  The tailor introduced himself, “Aldo, and my daughter, Ann Marie.”  _Of course,_ she mentally chuckled at the stereotype.  Aldo offered that Ann Marie, could assist May Alice with dressing and she had a new appreciation for that offer, after realizing how difficult dressing herself had already been.

Ann Marie helped May Alice into the suit that Ben had purchased for her back in March.  The girl knew her father would want to see the whole outfit together.  Ben had not seen her in the suit, and she had looked forward to the chance to wear it, at least, one more time.  It still looked perfect on her, with the exception of the snug waistline of the pants.  Ann Marie complimented her, saying her auburn hair and sun-kissed complexion were a striking contrast with the white suit, “It makes your eyes as green as emeralds,” she said.

Seams were released, and tailor-type things were discussed, and soon, Aldo and Ann Marie were off to their shop to complete the work.  They vowed to return by 3:00 p.m. with the final product, and they did not disappoint.  In their absence, fearing the intimidation of being five pounds heavier than she’d ever been, and meeting the stunning Alexandra Addams that evening, May Alice had called in hair and make-up reinforcements.  By 6:00 p.m., she was coiffed, and tailored, and as ready as she’d ever be to see her play, and meet Ben’s newly beloved. 

Once her support team had departed, and she was awaiting the limo, she took a moment to remember the woman she was seeing in the mirror.  The stylist had pulled her long hair into a neat and professional twist that was more reminiscent of her once, very short hair, but with a few wisps that curled around her face to soften her look.  Still, May Alice recognized this, once-version, of herself.  She looked good, and she was pleased about that.  She missed her a little, that bawdy, flirty, devil-may-care May Alice, and she was impressed how quickly she’d returned with a little hair and makeup.  She had been so busy with tasks that whole day, she’d barely had time to become excited over seeing her play.  That changed with Ben’s arrival, and it lasted far into the first act of the highly professional production.

May Alice was taken back to meet the cast prior to the show.  Only four, of the original eight, actors were reprising their roles, including Martin Andreas, who had beaten out Curtis Max for the title role when it moved to full production.  Martin was overjoyed at May Alice’s arrival, and he told her he thought about her every night before he went on stage, mentally thanking her for allowing him that opportunity.  Leslie Mann had also been retained as director and she offered to May Alice that she hoped she would enjoy what they had to show her.  The rest of the pre-show was filled with meeting various acquaintances, both associated with the show, and not.  Eventually Ben and May Alice made their way to the private box in the theater and settled in for the production.

The curtain opened and May Alice saw the magnificent stage that had been built.  It was only the first of several breathtaking moments she would enjoy during the full-on, Broadway show.  Costumes, sound effects, the audience, and mostly, Martin’s performance, was responsible for the rest; although, every one of the actors was stellar.  She commented to Ben, after the end of Act One, how much Martin had embodied the role, and was an even better actor than she’d realized. 

She was truly mesmerized, and had to be reminded, after the final curtain, that she had written it all.  It was an incredible moment.  She enjoyed the accolades only a few minutes longer, when they were interrupted by a subtle movement, deep within her abdomen.  She instinctively reached for the area and held her hand there, speechless.  The festivities continued happening around her, but she was frozen just long enough for Ben to take notice. 

“Are you all right?”  He asked with concern. 

“Yes,” she said absently, trying to act casual, while being visibly moved by this new, amazing feeling.  “I think, I must be hungry, is all,” she lied.  He moved quickly, excusing them from the congratulatory crowd, and helped get her into the limo.  Once seated, the small flutter in her belly had ceased and she relaxed some, thinking she, perhaps, imagined it.

The duo arrived at Windows on the World on the 107th floor of the World Trade Center just after 11:00 p.m.  They were taken to a small area, segregated a little, from the rest of the place, by mid-wall planters filled with greenery and white Christmas -type lights.  Ben was dating Broadway elite now, he had to prepare places for him, and Alexandra, to go in public and still have privacy enough to enjoy themselves.  That night being no exception, he had done it with his usual flair.  He settled May Alice in at a table just next to the wall of glass, and allowed her to take in the view, which included magnificent views of Manhattan, Brooklyn and New Jersey.  It was the very scenery the restaurant was famous for and it was perfect.  He excused himself to go greet the soon-to-be arriving, Alexandra.

In the brief moments alone there, basking in the glow of the interior lighting against the vastness and beauty of the New York evening skyline before her, May Alice was overcome by an undeniable sense of calm.  She had felt it once before that day too, briefly, on the drive to theater, when the limo had passed St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  She felt her eyes drawn to the splendor of the cathedral more than she ever recalled before.  She’d passed the church hundreds of times in her life, and even visited it, once, but had never felt drawn to it like she was that day; she could not take her eyes off it.  She had the same sense of being drawn to something right then, but, of course, the Cathedral was nowhere near.  What was this tranquility and how had it found her, she wondered?

Ben returned to the table with Alexandra draped on his arm.  For any adjective ever used to describe Ben, Alexandra embodied it, and multiplied it by it ten.  She was breathtaking; more beautiful in person, than even her pictures, May Alice realized.  She was a full two inches taller than Ben, thanks to her four-inch stiletto heels, but even without those, she was easily 5 foot eleven.  The heels complimented perfectly, her slim figure, clad in a flowing, navy blue sleeveless, nearly backless, jumpsuit embellished with a dazzling beaded belt.  Her straight, deep brunette hair was cut blunt, and ended neatly just below a powerfully squared, yet feminine jaw line.  Small wisps of bangs, swept to the side across her forehead softened the contrast between the dark hair, and the features of her porcelain skin, and dark eyes.  Rounding out the glamour was a dazzling smile that rivaled even Ben’s, sporting perfectly white teeth framed by impeccable red lipstick.

She acknowledged, but moved gracefully past, a small and appreciative crowd, to enter the small area where May Alice was observing the couple’s graceful entrance.  Upon seeing May Alice, Alexandra dropped Ben’s arm and advanced straight to May Alice with her long thin arm reaching out with a friendly handshake.  “Miss Culhane, it’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she began.  “I am Alex.” 

 _Perfect Alex,_ May Alice thought, as she shook the woman’s hand.  “May Alice, please,” she offered to Alex, “and likewise, it’s a pleasure to meet you.  You are even more beautiful than your pictures.”

Alex laughed, and said, “I was just about to say the same to you!  Wow,” she said looking over May Alice, “That is a stunning suit.”

Ben shuffled Alex around the table, and held out her seat, just as a smitten waiter appeared with the drink she not even had to order.  “Your scotch, Miss Addams,” the waiter said, and slinked quickly away.  Alex thanked the man, then continued easily with the conversation with May Alice. 

“Ben was so thrilled you agreed to come-” she stared to say, but quickly, had a different thought, that turned the topic, “How did you like your play?!” she said excitedly.  It was a sweet gesture, May Alice thought; she could tell this was a woman who commanded the attention of any room she entered, but she seemed genuine in steering the topic away from herself in that moment.

“I loved it,” she said quietly.  She looked at Ben as if to thank him, once again for having optioned it, and presenting it in exactly the way she’d wanted.

The majority of the dinner talk then progressed from May Alice’s play to Alex’s play, then into many varied topics, that included equal participation from the three who were all, in their own right, great conversationalists.  While the majority of topics centered on New York, theater, acting and producing, eventually they arrived at relationships.  By that time, May Alice had already seen how, and why Ben had fallen for Alex, and she was hopeful that Alex truly was the smart, funny, and genuinely kind woman she presented herself to be that evening.  May Alice was good judge of character; even Alex had commented on that when complimenting May Alice about her writing.  Ben was a good judge of character too, and between them, she could trust Alex was the real deal.  Eventually, Alex made a comment that she and Ben were at the age where they understood the value of real communication and there was nothing they did not discuss. 

“For example,” she said, “Ben has told me everything about your relationship with him.  And I have to say, I found it very intriguing, and really quite savvy.”  May Alice wasn’t sure she’d have chosen either term for what she and Ben had been, but she was happy that Alex was not, at all, about petty jealousies.  _Like she would have any reason to be jealous of me_ , she couldn’t help but toss in.

“Well,” Ben chimed in, “this savvy gentleman is becoming a little uncomfortable with where this is going.  If you two lovely ladies will excuse me, I will settle up our tab,” Ben kissed Alex’s hand, winked at May Alice and left the women for a few moments.

“He’s really happy you came, and now, so am I!” Alex said excitedly, having lost zero energy since her arrival two hours earlier.  “You are everything Ben described.” 

“Thank you,” was all May Alice was equipped to answer.  She was running out of steam and that kind of fatigue usually resulted in some kind of self-loathing about no longer being able to stay up and talk and drink all night, like the fabulous, older woman sitting across from her.  She’d enjoyed every minute of the night but was glad Ben was preparing to wrap it up. 

“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said Ben and I talk about everything,” Alex continued.  She slid her hand across the table and cupped it over May Alice’s while she continued, “He told me about your little surprise there,” and pointed with her other hand, in the direction of May Alice’s belly.  Then she leaned in and looked directly into May Alice’s eyes and said, with seemingly true sincerity, “If it’s any consolation, my mother was forty-three when she had me, her only child.  And I have to say, there was never an answer she didn’t have, a trouble she’d not seen, or advice that didn’t prove sound.  I had my own girls in my thirties, and I was a complete wreck.  My mother would say, ‘see, you should have waited until you learned a thing or two’.”  Alex laughed, and released her hand from May Alice’s but continued on, with the same intensity in her eyes, “The truth is, I never got to be as smart as my mother.  But you know what?  You are.  Anyone who could write what you did?  That’s a woman who’s got it all figured out,” she said with finality.  She spoke with such flair and conviction, and May Alice had been so impressed by her all evening, she willed herself to believe Alex’s words.

Ben arrived moments following, and gathered up his dates and escorted them into the first, of two, elevators they’d take down the 107 floors, to waiting limos.  May Alice thanked Alex once again for taking the time to meet her, and said how truly regretful she was that she would not get to see Alex perform.  She could fully imagine Alex’s brilliance on stage after only three hours with her at dinner. 

“Next time,” Alex offered graciously, “Best of luck to you, May Alice” and then she turned toward Ben.  She placed both hands on either side of his face and kissed him squarely on the mouth.  When they parted, she said to him, “And, I will see you later.”  She then turned and folded herself effortlessly into the limo. 

May Alice quickly told Ben he didn’t need to escort her to the Plaza, and suggested he go on with Alex; but he would not hear of it, and soon he was helping the driver place her into the second, waiting limo.  She paid more attention as their ride, once again, took them past St. Patrick’s and, once again, she felt drawn to the sanctuary of the spot. 

Upon arrival at the Plaza, the skilled driver lifted May Alice out of the car, but before he placed her in her chair, she asked if he wouldn’t mind helping her to stand a moment.  She assured him she could stand, steadying herself with a hand against the car.  She then motioned for Ben to come to her.  She directed him to give her a proper hug.  He enveloped her frame, and held her tightly, and he’d forgotten how she’d felt all those years ago, and before she was bound to the chair.  It was a meaningful gesture for both.  When she signaled she was ready, Ben released his hold and kissed her sweetly on the lips. 

“I really like Alex.  You chose well,” she said.

“I had a good trainer,” he said with a wink. 

“You had _several_ ,” she quipped.

“But you were my favorite,” he said with a sweet smile and genuine sincerely.  Then, he helped her into the chair and said, “I will be back at 2:00 for you.  Call if you need anything.”

“Can you come at 1:00?  I’d like to stop at the Cathedral,” she blurted out.  Ben looked at her oddly, but it was no trouble, and he assured he’d be there at 1:00.  “Good night, Ben,” she said still basking in the comfort of the peace that had found her, earlier in the evening, when she’d gazed out the Windows of the World.


	35. 35

**Chapter 35**

After having left May Alice at Lafayette Regional, Rennie returned to her house to be with Elizabeth.  He’d had to tell Arlene he would, again, be picking up the kids from school that day and told her only that he had some things to work out with them before he continued with their newest routine.  She was not happy about the sudden changes, with such little explanation behind them, but did not the press matter, sensing Rennie was going through something.  She wondered if it had anything to do with May Alice, but, of course, she’d never ask.

Rennie and Chantelle looked up several articles about depression in children on May Alice’s computer. He mentioned, that earlier, that same morning, the pre-school nurse, Miss Etta, had phoned him with the name of a psychologist who also happened to be her daughter-in-law.  She assured Rennie that if he opted to have Elizabeth seen by a therapist, she thought this would be a good fit.  He’d called Dr. Asher’s office and she’d asked to see them that afternoon.  Rennie was apprehensive but Chantelle offered, “It can’t hurt to hear what she thinks.”  He asked Chantelle if he could bring the other kids to her again that day while he took Elizabeth and of course, she was happy to help out.

He arrived at the suite of offices with Elizabeth at 3:30 p.m.  He was surprised to see that Dr. Asher looked quite young, maybe in her mid-thirty’s, he guessed.  She was a far cry from the school psychologist, and Rennie understood, as soon as she spoke, what Nurse Etta meant by her being a good fit.  Dr. Asher was calm, and welcoming and she assured Rennie before even assessing Elizabeth that she didn’t anticipate anything as drastic as medication for treatment, which immediately put him at ease. 

Elizabeth had been taken to an adjoining room by an assistant who worked to engage her in activities while Rennie gave Dr. Asher details on all that had happened to the family in the past year.  The doctor then asked Rennie what he thought might be the root of Elizabeth’s despondency.  He was a little surprised by that, he’d assumed she would simply tell him what he had done wrong.  She chuckled and said, “Oh, no, Mr. Boudreaux; you know your child best; I’m just here to help facilitate ways to help you communicate with her, and maybe, give her some tools to communicate back.” 

He described his observation about the lack of affection Arlene had shown to the kids, and he’d concluded that, Elizabeth, being the youngest, had likely never felt real affection from Arlene.  He never believed that Arlene did not lover her, just that she could not express it in a way that was valuable to Elizabeth, and why should he deny Elizabeth the affection of another woman who was perfectly willing to provide that love to her?  He finally felt justified in telling the doctor something he’d been ashamed to admit.  “I think she chose a different mother, and I can’t blame her.” 

The pair talked more and they’d brought Elizabeth back into the room with them for the last half hour of the appointment so that Dr. Asher, and her assistant, could discuss the child’s demeanor.  Both agreed that Elizabeth did exhibit symptoms consistent with depression but they believed them, likely, acute.  Dr. Asher warned only time would tell, for certain, but if nothing changed, it was likely the issues would deepen.  She asked Rennie what alternatives were available to him for changing the situation.  “I’ll do whatever I need to,” he said simply.  “I’ll take her out of daycare and stay with her all day if that’s what it takes for her to feel secure.”  While admirable, the doctor pointed out that, being the breadwinner, his offer was not a sustainable solution.

“I do agree, however, that spending time with her right now is paramount,” she offered.  “Fostering the security within her family should help alleviate the acuteness of the symptoms and from there, we’ll just see.”  They agreed that they would give it a week, and she asked he return then, and revisit options.  She added, “What you do about including her mother is, fortunately, up to you right now,”.  She knew he had custody for at least another year, and could actually opt to keep Elizabeth from Arlene if he chose to do so.  “But do not discount that keeping her from her mother all together, could have some ramifications later in her life.”

Rennie assured her he would return the following week and would call if Elizabeth’s condition worsened.  He had so much to think about, and he was feeling May Alice’s absence keenly, but he was determined that Elizabeth would not continue to endure whatever was troubling her, all on her own.

When they returned to the Culhane’s to retrieve the other kids, Chantelle had dinner prepared and insisted they stay and eat.  Elizabeth had been marginally better that day, but upon understanding, by that evening that May Alice was not coming home, she became weepy and would not eat.  Chantelle took the girl from the table and sat with her on May Alice’s bed, hoping the environment, at least, would offer her some solace.  She assured the girl, as she had all day that “Mama’s” absence was truly just temporary. 

Once Elizabeth was gone from the table, Rennie explained Elizabeth’s condition the kids.  Missy and Sabine were glad they were not the only one’s who’d noticed the change in the girl.  Jaxon worried what would happen if she didn’t snap out of it, and Acadia said what Rennie had known all along.  “She just wants to be with Miss Ma.”

He let the conversation end there.  He knew what he wanted, and it would require May Alice’s participation, and it’s why he’s sent her away; she would have to be certain of her commitment, or he would have to change his strategy and that, he refused to think about just then because it was just too sad to consider.

Chantelle suggested the family spend the weekend again at the Culhane home.  She knew the kids loved it there and could entertain themselves, giving Rennie some room to breathe.  She also wanted to keep her own eyes on Elizabeth, both for herself, and she’d promised May Alice she would.  Rennie said he’d see how they all felt in the morning after the library but he, too, hoped what Chantelle did, that the consistency of being at the home, even without May Alice present, might still be enough to help keep the girl from sliding further into her melancholy.

Saturday arrived, and before they departed for the library, Rennie phoned Chantelle to report that Elizabeth did well overnight.  She still wet the bed, but she’d slept and she’d eaten breakfast.  He invited her and Denita to have lunch with them at the diner, which they happily did.  To no one’s surprise, they all returned to the Culhane home that afternoon and spent the day doing all the things they loved to do there.  The talk periodically included the absence of May Alice, and they all wondered what she was doing, and how she would like her play. 

Rennie had been quieter than usual, Chantelle noticed.  He was heavy in thought about how to tell Arlene his plan for Elizabeth’s immediate future.  He knew she had no choice but to allow him to proceed, but she could make it more difficult for him through the other kids, and that was the last thing he wanted.  He was lost in those thoughts, and a few others, when he realized he’d lost sight of the toddler.  Relieved to not see her heading to the water, he moved into the house to find her.  Not seeing her in the kitchen or living room, he continued to May Alice’s room and found Elizabeth sitting on the bed, wrapping herself in one of May Alice’s t-shirts.  It made him smile, and he continued to watch silently as she finished, then lay down on the pillow with her favorite rabbit in her arms, and closed her eyes to nap.  He moved next to her and asked if she minded his napping with her.  She shook her head and took hold of one of his fingers and whispered the customary words they exchanged before going to sleep.  “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”  He didn’t sleep, he just lay with her, and listened to her breathing, and he became convinced he was making the right decisions for his family.  After some time, he moved off the bed and found Chantelle.  He asked her if she could watch the kids the next morning.  He needed to update Arlene.  “Of course; you can even let them sleep over tonight if you want.”  He would have liked that, but in the interest of consistency, he felt he should have everyone return home.

Rennie woke the kids early Sunday morning.  He had them fed and dressed, and to Chantelle by 9:00 a.m., then was off to meet with Arlene.  He purposely wanted to meet her before her 11:00 a.m. mass, hoping she’d find solace in it after what he knew he needed to tell her.  There was not gentle way to say it, even though, he had no desire to purposely hurt her.

They met in one, of several, small courtyards around the campus of St. John’s.  It was a truly peaceful place, although, Rennie’s mind was unable to enjoy it at the time.  He started right away, explaining fully, the events that had rendered her unneeded the past Thursday and Friday.  He omitted the part about his having proposed to May Alice, both, because it was not relevant to the conversation, and because, for right then, it was just theirs to share.  He explained Elizabeth’s condition, and how it had started with the reintroduction of Arlene into their routine.  He wasn’t blaming her, he explained.  In fact, her return had been a positive thing for most of the kids just, maybe, not Elizabeth.  He spoke quickly, wanting her to have all the facts before he imposed his solution on her.  She couldn’t have interrupted him much anyway because she was so stunned by the news of her child’s condition.  She didn’t want to believe that her return could have such a consequence.  He could see she was struggling with the news, so when he’d finished with the prognosis of the girl, he paused, because the next part would be the more hurtful of the information.

“So, you think her being with me is her issue?” Arlene finally asked, failing to see the same connections Rennie was making.

“A lot of things have happened to her in a year; a lot of changes, because of things both you, and I, are responsible for, but your leaving wounded all the kids.  They’ve all found ways to try and heal without you.  Elizabeth’s just a baby, but I think she also found a way to heal her wound without you.  I won’t undo that healing just to make room for you again.  I won’t do it.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

He could see she was readying for battle so he continued with an iron will, “You may still see, and keep the kids for as long as they want you to, but Elizabeth won’t be part of it.  Not until she asks for something different.”

Arlene wasted no time in responding to that.  “And you’re going to what - let your _mistress_ raise her?  Does that woman even have one iota of maternal instinct?  She can’t have kids of her own, so, you just want to give her one of mine?  You think that will make her a woman again?  Seriously Rennie, you’re not thinking with the right head.”  Her insults should have incensed him, but they didn’t.  He knew the revelation would be a hard one for her and he’d allowed for her to lash out; although, he hadn’t expected her to attack May Alice so cruelly. 

Ignoring the implications, and the insults, he continued calmly, “Elizabeth requires more affection than you have shown her, and she’s found it elsewhere and I won’t take that from her.”  He wanted to add that she could be in danger of losing Acadia for the same reason, but he refrained because Acadia was old enough to know her own heart, and make her own decision, he didn’t need to speak for her just then. 

Arlene shook her head in disbelief.  She was hurt, but she knew Rennie wouldn’t lie to her about Elizabeth’s condition and she couldn’t deny she had not done right by her family.  She’d come back to try Lafayette to try though, and she needed his support to do that.  “I know,” she said, trying to calm herself, “that I don’t have a choice in this right now, but Rennie, she’s my baby,” she pleaded.

“She’ll always be.  How you choose to move forward with her, will be up to you, but when, is going to be up to me, and I won’t decide until she’s older and more settled.”

“What about her birthday?”  It was only three days away.

Rennie shook his head, “This starts now,” he said, firmly.

“I just don’t see why you think this is the solution.  How is it fair to let some, has-been actress spend more time with her than me?”

Aghast that she was, again, attacking May Alice, he looked directly into Arlene’s eyes, steeling his gaze, and silently warning her not to let him answer that question.  Arlene knew the challenging stare and quickly backed down, her emotions muddled by the news, her reaction, and by seeing that piece of Rennie she’d long forgotten about; that fiercely protective Cajun boy that had saved her life so long ago.  She knew instinctively, she would not gain headway that day, so she took what she could, and reiterated what he’d promised, “I can still see the others?”

“Yes.”

She conceded, “Okay, we’ll try it your way.  But you have to promise me you will let me see her, and if she doesn’t improve, you will let me be involved?”  He’d not planned for the possibility of Elizabeth not improving and he was upset that it was Arlene bringing it to his attention.  Indeed, what if it turned out his plan wasn’t all Elizabeth needed to recover? 

“Let’s see how it goes,” he agreed.  He moved to leave, thinking he’d said all he was prepared to, but he stopped, and turned back to her, and said, “There’s one more thing.  I can’t stop you from saying, or thinking, whatever you want about May Alice.  I’ve never lied to you about my relationship with her, and the children love her.  If you say the things about her, that you’ve said to me today, to the kids, you will only be hurting them.”  He’d said his peace and turned, and left.

The words were not lost on Arlene.  Once the initial harshness of his plan had dissipated, and she was able to see things from his perspective, she felt a rush of guilt, and embarrassment.  It was as exactly how she’d felt the day he’d confessed his love of May Alice, and it distressed her to know how easily she’d reverted to jealousy and anger, instead of with the love and understanding God would have instructed her to share with him.  She decided, she needed to seek the counsel, once again, of Sister Nancy, who had become her trusted confidant in the absence of Deacon Leon.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

May Alice awoke Sunday morning feeling completely rested.  The time away was exactly what she needed.  The calmness that had eluded her much of her life, was, happily, still present, and she felt confident in the knowledge that she could do more than she’d have given herself credit for.  While truly proud how her little writing experiment had turned out, with such success, she felt like it was a fitting end to the life she’d had in New York, and she was genuinely happy to be leaving, and returning home.

Ben greeted May Alice in her suite, promptly, at 1:00 p.m., as she’d requested.  He asked about how the rest of her evening was and he was happy to hear she’d slept well.  When convinced that she was ready, he helped her with her bags and they left the Plaza Hotel for St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Ben escorted her out of the car and on their way into the cathedral, May Alice stopped in the gift shop that was attached to the parish hall.  She purchased six, small St. Joseph’s medallions, one for each of the kids.  Ben observed the care she took in choosing them and shook his head and smiled at her.  “You are full of surprises, my dear.”  Next, they made their way into the Cathedral, but Ben remained near the back of the church, giving her time to herself while still watching her with a newfound curiosity. 

Simply entering the church and recalling its majesty, May Alice felt unworthy being there.  She found herself, not praying, but, rather, thanking God for the many blessings she’d received that year and she asked forgiveness for not having always seen them as such.  One thing she found difficult, was asking for forgiveness of her sins.  She couldn’t imagine, with the happiness and fulfillment she received from Rennie and his family, that their being together was a sin.  Once she’d spent enough time in thankful prayer, she moved into a small vestibule, next to the altar, and lit a candle for the life she knew was growing inside of her, and she prayed that life was, truly, God’s blessing, and that she would carry the pregnancy through.  She also prayed for the souls of her parents, who she was missing more than she ever had before. 

Inside the vestibule with her, lighting several candles, was a priest.  He smiled at her and noticed her gift bag.  He inquired what she’d purchased, and when she told him, he offered to bless the medallions for her, which, she happily agreed to.  When the father had finished, and handed the newly blessed trinkets back to her, he held her hands in his and said, “Peace be with you, and your children.”  His choice of the word peace hit home, and the gesture moved her tremendously.  As she had the night before in the restaurant, she did, in fact, feel nothing but peace.

“And also with you, Father” she reciprocated.

“Trust yourself,” the priest said to her,” It’s often how He answers our prayers.”  Then, he departed, and she was left pondering those first, two words.  She’d heard them in her head, the day she learned she could be pregnant, but that day, she’d heard them in her mother’s voice.  Hearing them repeated that day, aloud, by a priest, was a surreal and unnerving experience, yet, she felt perfectly content, and hopeful.  She rejoined Ben, happy to begin the journey home. 

They arrived at La Guardia at 2:30 p.m., a bit earlier than scheduled.  Randy was already present, as was the plane.  Randy took her items to the jet, allowing her, and Ben to say their goodbyes.  Ben had been unusually quiet since their departure from St. Patrick’s, as had she, but as Randy exited the private terminal suite for the plane, May Alice began a polite, but sincere thank you to Ben for having, not only gotten her there, but also making it so easy for her to have come alone.  She noticed Ben was having trouble acknowledging her words; he kept fidgeting, and looking away.  Once she’d finished speaking, and it was clear she was expecting some response, Ben finally made eye contact.  He tried to speak some words for her, but she witnessed him becoming overwhelmed by whatever they were.  He looked away, embarrassed at his unexpected flow of emotions.  Randy returned just then, and asked May Alice if she’d like to stand while he took her wheelchair to the jet.  She had her own reaction about seeing Ben that way.  She’d relied on his always being the one in control, the one with a plan, and exactly the right words for every situation.  On the very rare occasion when he was not any of those things, she needed his aloofness and biting sense of humor to reassure her.  But in that moment, she received nothing. 

“No, Randy, it’s fine,” she said.  “You can wheel me out now; Mr. Marley was just leaving.”  She believed she understood that, Ben, not unlike herself, was finally trying to say goodbye to the two people they had once been.  He was in love with Alex, and while that wouldn’t change his life completely, it would change it; and she, had been irrevocably altered, well over a year before, and had been saying goodbye to that life ever since.  She didn’t need Ben to say anything, and she didn’t want him to be any more uncomfortable than he already was.  She did, however, as Randy wheeled her past him, run an assuring hand across his back, and said, gently, “Good bye, my friend.”

As they reached the double door, Ben finally spoke.  He asked her to stop, and asked Randy to give him just another moment.  May Alice turned her wheelchair to face Ben as he approached her.  As if he’d read her mind, he apologized for not having the right words at the ready.  His demeanor was softer than any time she could ever recall before.  He sat on the edge of one of terminal chairs facing her.  His confidence had returned and he looked at her with the same familiarity she was used to from him.  “I hope that I have done all right by you.  I know ours was not a conventional, well . . . _anything_.”  He laughed, unable to describe them as just lovers, friends, or colleagues.  May Alice smiled, and he continued, “I guess I couldn’t describe what we are if I had to; but, what I hope you know is that I never set out to use you.  It was always my intent, that whatever we chose to do with one another, had mutual benefit.”  She was puzzled by that statement; although she thought he might be saying good bye to them, she feared she’d done something to make him think she’d been anything but a willing participant in their arrangements. 

“Ben, whatever you and I were doing together saved me from a lot of other bullshit.  I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to make you doubt that.”  She hoped he could understand her comment about the _bullshit,_ but it was nothing they’d ever discussed.  Her access to him allowed her to remain free from the expected entanglements, so often associated with, or even created by, the art of celebrity.  She didn’t have to sleep with anyone for a favorable role, she didn’t have to feud with, or date, anyone to keep her celebrity status relevant; just knowing Ben was a big deal, but being in his inner circle made her royalty, and it had opened plenty of doors and provided her safety.  And above all, he had always been honest and mostly kind to her. 

“No, no, you haven’t,” he admitted, which caused another questioning look in her, “It’s just that this past year, the things that have happened to us, I have seen a new dimension to you.  While I have always been amazed by you, and drawn to your strength, I never counted on seeing the softness in you.  When I did, it overwhelmed me, and it continues to.  You have a richness to you that I never looked for, and probably would have completely missed, had it not been for this past weekend.  It makes me feel like I’ve taken advantage of you all this time.”

He looked genuinely sad, and that unnerved her almost more than his earlier bout of emotion.  She responded, in kind, “And now, I have seen that same dimension in you.” She offered him a little smile and continued, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”  Then she took his hands in hers, and leaned toward him.  “You never took more from me than I let you; and you gave me plenty in exchange.  Maybe we thought we were far too cosmopolitan to actually love one another, but, perhaps, there is something equally meaningful between us after all?” With those words, she had done to him what she had all weekend; she had dealt him a gentle kindness, not only by excusing his perceived treatment of her, but also by acknowledging that she genuinely cared for him, and he for her; something he’d questioned ever since he’d abandoned her in the hospital over a year earlier.  And again, he was speechless.  He knelt before her and wrapped her in a tight embrace and did not let go until Randy, tentatively, reentered the terminal and lingered beside the doors.  When Ben released her, he took her chin in his hand and kissed her softly on the lips. 

“Absolutely there is,” he said, as he stood, and rushed out of the opposite doors.

The jet was airborne twenty minutes later, and Randy and May Alice spent the entire flight talking and joking and trading stories of their, completely different, upbringing.  He’d attempted to excuse himself several times to allow her some time alone, but, unlike her trip out, she had no need to sort anything out; she’d nestled into the peace that had been delivered to her in New York and she believed it would guide her to the right decisions facing her.  She reveled in the foreign feeling that everything was going to work out. 

Rennie watched as the same sleek jet that had spirited her away, taxied back to the terminal where he was awaiting May Alice’s return.  He watched as the small door pulled away from the fuselage, exposing the steps that would soon yield his future; whatever that future may be.  He recognized the man holding her in his arms as they descended the steps; he was same tall, muscular blonde attendant who’d happily greeted her there just two days ago.  Rennie felt as though May Alice looked perfectly comfortable in his arms and they were laughing and talking as though they’d been lifelong friends.

When they arrived inside the terminal, Randy set her down where she could easily stand, while he retrieved her chair from the plane.  As Rennie approached her, he heard Randy say to her with a wink, “Don’t run off.”

“Hi,” he said nervously, unable to get a read on her, since she was, clearly, still enjoying her exchange with the jet’s attendant. 

She turned to face him, still standing, holding the back of the bench she was using to steady herself.  “How is Elizabeth?” she asked.

“I think she’s gonna be okay.  No, she _is_ , she _is_ gonna be okay.”  He had been advancing to her and as he answered, he reached out and wrapped her in a firm embrace.  They held each other a moment then May Alice pulled away, but remained holding on to him instead of the bench.

She and smiled at him.  “Rennie, I love you, and I want you to marry me, and my kid.”  He tripped over her disarrangement of his words, but was elated that she’d remembered them, and repeated them, sort of.  _She is perfect_ , he thought.  He shook his head and chuckled, not believing his good fortune.  Before he could tease her about the mix up, Randy had returned with her wheelchair. 

The men maneuvered her into it, and Rennie took her bag from Randy and stepped away allowing them to say their good byes.  He couldn’t take his eyes off May Alice.  She was radiant.  Her pale skin looked porcelain against her auburn hair, and her green eyes were deep as jade.  He knew he’d missed her, but she’d been gone only two days and, still, she looked more beautiful than he’d ever remembered.  Randy departed the terminal for the jet, and Rennie approached her again, and took the handles of her chair and moved her toward the exit.  “You know,” he said as they headed for his truck, “your acting skills have suffered a little; you messed up your lines back there.”

She hummed a bit and then said, “No, I don’t believe I did.”  She was smiling, waiting to see if he actually heard what she’d said.  When he reached to lift her into the truck, she held him around his neck, like she usually did, and whispered in his ear, “Maybe you just misunderstood my lines?”  He could tell, from her voice, he had missed something.  He tried to recall exactly what she’d said but she repeated them for him.  “Rennie,” she said, commanding his full attention, and said a little more slowly, “I love you, and I want you to marry me, and my kid.” She couldn’t help but smile again when she said kid.  He was still processing, when she continued, “Oh, my gosh, you’re right.  I did mess it up!” she laughed a little then repeated, “ _Our_ kid.  Marry me, and our kid.”

He sat her in the seat of the truck and released his hold on her.  He took her hand in his and rested one foot on the running board of the truck.  He was fidgeting, squirming at what he hoped she was saying. When he made eye contact again, he knew he had understood.  She looked him directly back in the eyes, desperately needing to gauge his response.  She had come to terms with the news, she’d had the time and she’d found her peace with everything, but he had not.  She had not allowed for that, and suddenly, she doubted telling him that way.  She knew, ultimately, he would be happy; but it had to have come as a shock, and she honestly had no idea how he would react under the circumstances.  He was always so assured, so confident, so steady.  As she gazed upon his face looking for a sign, she saw his face soften, he smiled, and he had tears forming in his eyes.  He couldn’t find words, so, he embraced her tightly, and soon, he began to shudder a bit.  She just held him and let him ride the emotion.  “The timing is terrible, I know, and I need to have the test still, but, I’m pretty sure,” she whispered as his shaking subsided.  “And there could be complications,” she warned, not wanting him to risk getting too excited just yet, “it’s a lot to process.”  

At that declaration, he pulled back from her and placed his hand on her cheek.  “We’ll be fine.  No matter what happens, we’re gonna be okay.”

She believed him, with all her heart.


	36. 36

**Chapter 36**

Once Rennie had settled into the news enough to drive them home safely, they let that subject lie and proceeded to discuss the more immediate issue of Elizabeth.  “So,” May Alice began, “What did you decide about Elizabeth?”

Rennie kept his eyes forward on the road but answered, “I think it’s best if she doesn’t stay with Arlene just now.  I’d hoped that your decision, following New York,” he looked over to her and smiled, happy about her decision still being yes, he continued, “might mean that you would consider taking her during the day because I don’t plan to put her back in daycare this year; I thought she was too young last year but I had little choice then, and she had Jaxon, but  –“ she cut him off.

“I will, yes.  I want to; I’ve wanted to but it just wasn’t my place.”

“But, with this new . . . development?” Rennie asked.

“I admit, I’m worried how it might affect her; but we have some time yet.  By the time, you know,” she looked down at her still, mostly flat belly, “Elizabeth will be older, and if everything goes fine along the way, we’ll know better how she might feel about it.  What do you think?”

He smiled again, refusing to acknowledge her caution about the pregnancy, “I think I’m a very lucky man, and Elizabeth is gonna be fine.”

They discussed how and when would be best to share all the news with his children.  Regardless, May Alice insisted before anything else, he let her confirm the pregnancy with her doctor, which she had an appointment for the next day.  And she also wanted them to focus on Elizabeth, suggesting they delay news of these big changes until they knew how the girl would handle the smaller one of spending the days with May Alice and Chantelle.  She also pointed out they’d not had time to really even make a single plan for merging their lives legally.  “The, I do,” she reminded him with a smile, “is the simple part.”  By the time they arrived at her home they’d agreed that he would bring Elizabeth after he’d dropped the other kids at school and, as planned for the immediate future, he would stay with them for as many days as it might take to acclimate the girl to the new routine.  That was the one thing they could tell the kids that day.

May Alice was greeted by a group hug from the Boudreaux children.  They were all talking at once eager to hear how her trip was and how they’d missed her and how odd it was to be at her home without her.  She hugged, or patted every one of them, and said how she had missed them also, but was happy they’d come out and spent the weekend with Chantelle and Denita.  The raucous greeting had been enough to wake Elizabeth, who had been napping in her new usual spot, May Alice’s bed.  She’d gotten herself down and had wandered into the living room, again draped in May Alice’s t-shirt.  The girls snickered at her appearance, half asleep, hair wild, dragging her bunny and trying to orient herself.  But quickly she could identify that May Alice was there, and was calling for her, and moving her chair toward her with outstretched arms.  The toddler stood frozen, maybe fearful she was dreaming and she’d wake herself to find she was alone.  But when May Alice scooped her up and into her arms for the hugging of her lifetime, tears formed in her weary eyes and she whispered, “Mama?”  She let go of her bunny in order to grip May Alice’s neck with both her little arms.  Her tears fell, lost in the skin of May Alice’s neck where she was nestled tightly.  Not many in the room were untouched by the scene.  Only Jaxon managed to escape with a dry eye, but even he moved to the pair and patted Elizabeth on the back and picked up her bunny and tucked it under May Alice’s arm.  Chantelle quickly recovered and motioned everyone to the kitchen to get the table set for dinner which was nearly ready.  All the kids obeyed, leaving Elizabeth and May Alice to their reunion.

Dinner was all eyes on May Alice as she described the majestic theater she’d seen her play in, and she told them about the restaurant on top of The World Trade Center, and the magnificent lights of the city, and the beauty of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Then she remembered the medals she’d brought for each of them.  She excused herself to retrieve them from her bag and when she returned, she handed them out explaining about the belief of patron saints, and how the medallions were to symbolize protection over them.  She then explained that St. Joseph was the Patron Saint of Fathers and Family, and she looked at Rennie and added, “and carpenters.”  She told them it was her hope that the medallions would be reminder for each of them, that they were never truly alone, even when their father, or siblings might not be with them.  She also told of her good fortune in meeting the priest who blessed each of the medals for them.  Whether or not they understood, or even cared about the medallions, they were happy she was home and that she’d thought of them; they accepted the trinkets happily, and the older girls all put theirs on.  Jaxon gave his to Rennie to hold, and May Alice placed Elizabeth’s over her head, and sealed it with a kiss which made Elizabeth smile.

Rennie then told the group of the plan moving forward with Elizabeth and why she would not be going back to school right away, why he was staying with her for a few more days, and the ultimate plan for her to stay with May Alice and Chantelle during the day until she returned home with Rennie each night.  None of the girls, except Acadia, seemed to think the change was anything noteworthy. 

After dinner, the family packed up and prepared for home.  Rennie spirited May Alice to the back porch for a private moment following that very eventful day.  “I would have loved to have picked you up today, taken you out to some private island, and made love to you all night,” he said as he held his hand to her cheek.  He leaned in and they shared a deep, passionate kiss.  He was filled with anticipation of what he wished could come next, but quickly, they were reminded of the time. 

“Soon,” she promised, “maybe soon.”  After that, he replaced that anticipation with some regarding what the next day would bring.  For all his worry about Elizabeth, he only felt happy; certain that she could find her way back to them, and he was only too happy to know he’d have the entire day to spend with her and May Alice. 

When they’d returned home that evening, Acadia asked Rennie what he’d told Arlene that morning when they met.  He confirmed it was about their mother not being with Elizabeth for a little while.  She asked to know what her Maw said about that.  He knew Acadia was smarter than to think Arlene was fine with it, but he wouldn’t divulge what she did say.  He gave her the end result, that she wanted Elizabeth to get better too, and so, she was willing to let him try this. 

“Interesting,” the girl replied, which oddly, made Rennie chuckle.  _Indeed,_ he thought.

Rennie awoke Elizabeth Monday morning and checked the towel he’d laid down underneath her the night before.  They’d taken to placing towels to keep from having to change out her bed linens so often.  It was dry.  It was the first time they’d not had to change her in almost two weeks.  He smiled as he watched the girl try to open her eyes. 

“Good mornin’, sweet pea” he said happily.

Misunderstanding his unfortunate choice of endearment, she said sadly, “Did I pee?” 

Rennie laughed and smiled.  “No, no you didn’t, honey; it’s just an expression.  You had a good night.” She nodded and wiped the sleep from her eyes.  He lifted her up and carried her to the bathroom.  Once done, he led her into the kitchen where he’d placed a bowl of cereal for her earlier.  The other girls and Jaxon were filtering in and around the table by then as well. 

Acadia sat with her bowl and said, “I checked Lizzie once in the night.  The towel was dry.” 

“It still is,” Rennie said.  “Thank you for checking on her, sweetheart.” He was truly grateful for Acadia’s never ending patience.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

“I told Rennie about . . . that I’m pregnant.” May Alice confirmed to Chantelle as they ate breakfast. 

“And?”

“He was really happy,” she said.  She smiled but it was a little pained, Chantelle could tell.

“I knew he would be.  And May Alice, really, you’re not as high a risk as you might be thinking.  You’ve not had nearly the complications of other paraplegics, your kidney function is good, clearly your reproductive system recovered,” she said with a sly smile.

May Alice laughed a little but said, “It’s just really kind of . . . terrifying; the whole thing, not even counting telling the kids, and knowing how it will sound to Arlene,” she pronounced Arlene’s name with a bit of a sneer as though anticipating the woman’s response would be in kind. 

“And, he asked you to marry him.” Chantelle said; it was not a question.  She’d seen the ring when Missy brought it up on May Alice’s birthday, but the two, truly had not had a moment since, to discuss it. 

That realization hit May Alice for the first time right then.  “Oh yeah, that too; when it rains . . .” She didn’t have to finish.

“It’s okay, we can cross that bridge when the flood hits,” Chantelle quipped.

May Alice laughed, and exclaimed, “Dear God, how much more can it pour?”  Once they’d stopped laughing at the continued absurdity of their life’s changes in one year, May Alice said, “I don’t want you and Denita to go.”

“I know.”  She wasn’t that worried.  She knew that even if everything went according to plan, which did not seem to be the pattern for those two, there would still be time to work everything out.  She and Denita would be fine, no matter what.  “I’m really happy for you, May Alice.  Congratulations.”

May Alice was touched; she knew Chantelle, of all people, knew exactly how far she’d come to end up where she was.  May Alice thought back on those first days with Chantelle, remembering how awful she’d been to the poor woman and, literally, what a miracle it was that Chantelle stayed. 

“Thank you.  And thank you, for not quitting on me back then,” she said humbly. 

“You’re welcome.”

Rennie watched Elizabeth a little more intently than usual once each of the other kids had departed the truck for school.  She seemed a little better to him that morning but, again, she hadn’t eaten much and she’d not talked on the drive to drop the kids at school.  As he pulled away from the Elementary School, he watched her face as he drove in a different direction from the daycare.  She didn’t seem to notice, but as the drive went longer than usual for getting her to the daycare, she seemed curious.  She began looking around and, soon, recognized they were on the road to May Alice’s.  She sat back in the seat next to Rennie and played a little with her rabbit.  She then noticed her yellow blanket, folded in the seat where Acadia had been sitting before.  She looked up at Rennie.

“I thought you liked having it at Miss Ma’s?” he said, in response to her silent question.

“We’re going to Mama?”

“Yes,” he answered, not correcting her, humored by her continuous refusal to give in and call May Alice ‘Miss Ma’ again.

“Then daycare?” She didn’t look at him when she asked.

“Not today, sweetheart.  Not for a while.  Is that okay with you?”  She didn’t answer him, so he continued, “I think that it might be better for you to stay with Miss- to stay with Mama, and Miss Chantelle, instead.  Would you like that?”  She nodded and reached to hold the yellow blanket.  Such a tiny gesture, but it made him very happy.  They arrived at the Culhane home shortly after and he lifted Elizabeth, her bunny, and her blanket out of the truck.  He grabbed the small bag of spare underwear and clothes he’d had to carry for her, as well, but he tried to keep it obscured from her.

They let themselves in and joined May Alice and Chantelle who were still seated in the kitchen having coffee.  The women greeted the girl and as soon as Rennie set her down, she went to May Alice and hugged her and handed her the yellow blanket.  “It’s back?  Well, that is good; we will need it for your nap later.  Do you want to go set it on the bed?” She hoped to bolster, for Elizabeth, the thought that the girl was staying.  Elizabeth took the blanket and headed to May Alice’s room with it.  As soon as she’d gone, Rennie bent down and kissed May Alice good morning and asked how she was doing. 

“Fine, I’m good,” she said smiling, but eagerly changed the subject to the start of the new routine.  “So, how’d it go?”

“I think well; she didn’t eat enough though.  Oh, but she slept the night without an accident,” he said smiling, remembering that little triumph, and spiriting the clothing bag to Chantelle, who continued to obscure it as Elizabeth returned to the kitchen and made her way right back to May Alice, where she climbed into her lap, and sat quietly, while the adults continued their discussion.  May Alice placed her customary kiss on top of the girl’s head and absently played with the dark curls.

Rennie had debated asking May Alice about her appointment in front of Elizabeth; he’d wanted to accompany her, but was worried about using the word “doctor” in relation to May Alice in front of Elizabeth.  The toddler’s experience with doctor’s, of late, had not been so pleasant. 

As if reading his mind, Chantelle started the discussion.  “You know that thing May Alice has later on?  I can stay with Elizabeth if you want to go along.  It’s right about her nap time then anyway.”  The couple smiled and Rennie thanked her, saying he would appreciate that.

The rest of the morning was casual, with none of the adults doting on Elizabeth, just keeping an eye on her, and encouraging her to engage in her normal activities.  May Alice read to her for a little while as Rennie returned phone calls, apologizing for his reschedules, recommending replacements for him where necessary, and lining up some fishing charters for the following week.  His charters were usually shorter days, and easier work to sub-out, if it turned out Elizabeth needed him longer.  Shorter hours also more easily accommodated trips to the therapist. 

Chantelle was busy doing Denita’s laundry and tidying the girl’s room.  She liked spending time in there, so, she tidied it a lot.  It helped her miss her less while she was in school, and helped her feel like she was doing motherly things for Denita, like cleaning up after her kid.  When it came time for May Alice to do her work out, Chantelle helped her set up outside, where she liked to be now that it was cooling down more.  Elizabeth sat at the picnic table nearby.  They’d given her crayons and Playdough and she played some, but was not very animated.  Still, she was not whiny or disengaged, she was just very quiet.  Her condition didn’t improve vastly the rest of the day, but she did not have any accidents, and she tried to eat at lunch, which resulted in her finishing half a sandwich, which was a start.  Chantelle made her a milkshake with lunch, which was actually PediaSure protein, blended up with ice, but the girl liked it, and drank almost all of it, which was encouraging for the adults. 

At 2:00 p.m., Elizabeth approached May Alice and asked her if it was time for their nap.  May Alice couldn’t decide if she should pretend to lay down with her, then sneak out, or if she should just level with the girl, and tell her she couldn’t nap that day.  She compromised and said she’d read to Elizabeth until she fell asleep but then she had something she needed to do.

By 3:00 p.m. May Alice and Rennie were in the waiting room of the ObGyn office, and May Alice found she had become very, very nervous.  _I should’ve opted for the nap and skipped this appointment_ , she told herself.  Rennie tried to hold her hand but she was too fidgety to accommodate that for very long.  She was making him nervous, as well.  Finally, they called the couple back and started the confirmation process.  Within the hour they learned, not only that May Alice was pregnant, but also, that she was twelve weeks along.  The doctor had opted to do an ultrasound right then, so that they could pinpoint a due date, and better prepare for any precautions they might need to take with May Alice’s paralysis and age.  The doctor didn’t want to overwhelm her any more than she clearly already was, but just as Louise had warned her, there were things to prepare for. 

“We will monitor you more than we might a younger mother, that is true,” Dr. McGrath confirmed, when May Alice asked about that risk.  “But for the most part, you’re in excellent health, and I don’t think you should worry unnecessarily about your age.”  He warned of the other things she and Chantelle already knew about, kidney infections, bladder infections, UTI, all the things they’d successfully avoided so far, as compared to the statistics.  He concluded with wanting to see her again in a month, and told her to keep up her normal routine, especially, her physical training and healthy diet. 

Rennie was elated.  He recalled every time in his life when he’d learned he’d be a father, but this was very different.  Not only did he understand the depth of his love for May Alice, as compared to what he and Arlene shared, but also, he knew more than ever, exactly what it meant to be a father to his children.  He was thrilled he’d have the chance to be a father again, and this time, he knew he’d not be pushed out.  In fact, with May Alice, he knew she’d actually welcome his help.  Suddenly, he remembered some words Arlene had said that first time they met, after Deacon Leon had returned her to Lafayette.  She’d told Rennie their kids were a blessing, and he recalled feeling indifferent to those words then.  He thoroughly understood them now, and more importantly, he felt them. 

When he lifted May Alice into the truck, he held her to him like he had the day before.  They enjoyed the embrace, sharing the many unspoken emotions.  Finally, Rennie pulled back and asked if she was all right.  She looked at him, and smiled and, almost as if she were surprised, said, “Yeah, I am.”  The immense calm that blanketed her unexpectedly in New York had returned, and she wondered why she allowed herself to lose that feeling at times.  “You?” she asked.  She knew he was happy, but worried he’d not embraced all the implications yet.

“You make it feel like Christmas,” he replied.  She laughed, not having expected that response at all.  He kissed her tenderly, and said, “I thought saying good night to you was hard before,” he feared it would be impossible now.

“Speaking of that, Rennie,” she said as he started the truck, and they headed for her house.  “There’s so much we need to talk about.  Elizabeth is the priority, that won’t change, but we really need some kind of plan, soon.  Chantelle is part of this family; she needs to know she and Denita will have a place with us.  I mean, we’ve not thought about any of the practicality of . . . everything.”

He looked over at her, and took her hand and raised it to his lips, and kissed it, “We will get a plan then,” he said simply.  “My first plan, however, is to take you up on your suggestion.”

“Um . . . what suggestion was that?”

“I think a puppy would be a great thing for _Elizabeth_ ,” he emphasized Elizabeth, with a smile. 

“Yeah?” she asked, excitedly.  Ross, the pool therapist, had asked her the previous week if she knew anyone who wanted a puppy.  His sister’s dog had a litter that was weaned and ready for adoption.  May Alice had thought about a dog for herself, recalling as a youth she’d always had one but, now, she feared not being able to train it properly and she didn’t get the impression Chantelle was much of an animal lover.  When Elizabeth was diagnosed with depression, Chantelle had researched animal therapy, and learned it was quickly becoming revered as more successful than drug therapies for children.  It got May Alice thinking, and she’d mentioned the idea to Rennie when he’d taken her to the airport days before, but, in the many eventful days since, she’d assumed Rennie had been too occupied to think more about it.  “Well,” she said, “I will see Ross in the morning, and see what we can arrange.”  Now she was the one who felt like it was Christmas.


	37. 37

**Chapter 37 (M rate)**

Saying good night, that evening, was even more difficult for Rennie, than any before.  Knowing May Alice was pregnant with his child was the most unexpected, and welcomed joy he could remember, so leaving her, then, seemed unusually cruel to him.  He’d tried to explain to her how sorry he was about that.  She understood, but hadn’t ever felt abandoned by him.  “I’m not a child,” she reminded him.  “It’s not like you could have known this could happen; I sure didn’t; not when it did, anyway.”  She couldn’t believe it; of all the dumb luck, if the numbers were right, she figured she conceived the first night the two made love.  Three days after she’d stopped the pill. 

“Of course, I knew it could happen,” he said, “I know what causes pregnancy,” he said with a smile.

“Well,” she said, putting her arms around his neck, “not making love to you was not an option; so, I will happily deal with the consequences.”  He wouldn’t argue that point.

Tuesday at the Culhane home was happily uneventful.  Elizabeth was marginally better than the past days.  Her appetite had remained, and she’d gone a second, consecutive night, without a bed wetting incident, but she was still reserved, and less talkative than she had been in the summer.  Again, Rennie spent the whole day with her.  He colored in her book with her, he took her and May Alice out on the boat for a short ride, and the three of them even napped together on May Alice’s bed in the afternoon.  Rennie hadn’t been sleepy, of course, but he didn’t want to miss any chance to hold May Alice, and being there with Elizabeth, was a bonus.  He worked hard to keep his hands from wandering May Alice’s body, realizing she really probably needed the sleep she was enjoying.

Earlier that morning, at the Y, Ross confirmed his sister had three pups left for adoption.  May Alice knew from their first discussion about the litter, that the sister’s dog was a pure bread Golden Retriever that had been accidently engaged by an unknown suitor, which rendered the litter, mutts.  They guessed, from the looks of the puppies, it was likely the neighbor’s Labrador mix that spoiled the purebred bloodline.  May Alice didn’t mind, she’d always had mutts and they’d always seemed like sweet little souls, and they’d always brought her much happiness.  Ross provided May Alice the necessary information and she’d arranged, with Rennie’s cooperation, to surprise Elizabeth with a meeting the following day. 

That evening she sat Chantelle down for a discussion about the idea of bringing a puppy into the house.  Chantelle reminded May Alice, it was her house, she could do whatever she wanted.  Chantelle admitted she was not familiar with having a house pet, but she could see the excitement in May Alice’s face at the prospect of having a dog.  She knew Denita would be equally beside herself.  The girl had fallen in love with every animal Sugar Ledoux had introduced her to in the few afternoons they’d spent at the stables with him.  May Alice’s biggest concern was house training the pup, and explained Chantelle would have to do most of that work, since May Alice couldn’t quickly scoop up a wetting dog and spirit it outside as it learned how to not go in the house.  “That doesn’t sound like too much trouble,” Chantelle said naively.  May Alice chose not to elaborate.  That hurdle being addressed, all that was left was to see if the absolute cuteness of a puppy did anything for Elizabeth’s despondency.  May Alice went to bed ever hopeful for the girl, and for herself, she admitted.

Wednesday morning, before Rennie and Elizabeth arrived, Chantelle approached May Alice about spending lunch, and the afternoon with Sugar.  He’d been asking her out for weeks but she hadn’t found the time.  Now that things were starting to gel with their newest routine, she thought she could get away, and give Rennie and May Alice some time together, as well.  “Of course, you know you can take off anytime.  I’ll always make due; even if you want to leave Denita; it’s fine,” May Alice said. “As for today, we’re taking Elizabeth to see the puppies, so you’d have time anyway.”

“Yeah, taking _Elizabeth_ to see the puppies,” Chantelle said, and, like Rennie before, emphasized Elizabeth.

“Why does everyone say it like that?”

May Alice, Rennie, and Elizabeth arrived at the rural home of Ross’ sister, Raylene, promptly at 1:00 p.m.  Rayleen welcomed the trio, and was taken aback at May Alice’s being in wheelchair.  Her brother had never mentioned he’d had a client who was paraplegic.  She invited the group to meet her in the back of the home, where she had let the puppies, and mom, roam in the large yard.  They made their way around, and Rennie watched Elizabeth intently.  They had asked the girl, before leaving May Alice’s, if she would like to go see a friend’s puppies and she had said yes, but, she’d had no visible motivation about them otherwise.  She asked no questions the whole way there.  Now, as they made their way to the back yard, she walked a little faster, and in front of May Alice and Rennie.  When she rounded the corner and saw movement in the yard, she turned to May Alice and handed off her bunny.  May Alice took it and looked at Rennie with raised eyebrows.  The girl had not taken ten steps before she was taken down by four, rambunctious puppies that proceeded to lick her like sugar.  Seconds later they heard Elizabeth squealing with belly giggles and they watched as she tried, unsuccessfully, to stand.  She rolled in the grass with pups and laughed between taking gulps of air to catch her breath. 

“They’re good with kids, did I mention?” Rayleen said, laughing. 

It was exactly the reaction May Alice had hoped for, and when she looked at Rennie, she saw he had tears welling in his eyes.  “They’re beautiful,” May Alice said to Rayleen, hoping to assuage any embarrassment Rennie might be feeling for being so emotional in front of the woman. 

Not long after watching the puppies, and Elizabeth, the toddler made her way over to Rennie and sat between his knees on the grass.  One puppy followed her while the other three went for their water bowl.  “This one has different eyes,” she told Rennie and May Alice. 

“That’s right,” Rayleen said.  “His are lighter than his sisters’.  He’s the only boy, too, and he loves to beat up on his little sisters.”  Indeed, the pup was a bit larger than the females and he rolled right over them when they played.

“He’s a brute,” Rennie commented.

The puppy continued to nip at the girl, and she reached out to brush his fur with her hands.  “What’s his name?” Elizabeth asked.

“He doesn’t have one yet,” Rayleen said, “he is looking for a new home, and we figured whoever adopts him might like to name him.”

“He doesn’t like it here?” Elizabeth asked.

The adults giggled, realizing they’d never really explained how this might work.  Rayleen explained about her dog, the puppies’ mother, and how they have litters, and how it’s common for the animals to be adopted by other families to raise.  Elizabeth seemed okay with that and then as though a light went off, she turned to May Alice and Rennie and said, “Can we undock one?” she said, having heard the word dock many times, but never the word, adopt.   A crowbar could not have wiped the smile from May Alice’s face when she heard those words, mispronounced or not.  Rennie laughed at both his girls.

“Well,” he answered, “You would have to help raise him, and train him, and that’s a big responsibility.  Do you think you could help Mama with that?” May Alice reached for his shoulder and squeezed it upon hearing him refer to her as Mama. 

“Yes!” Elizabeth squealed.  She looked up at May Alice and asked, “Can we, Mama?”

“I think that’s a terrific idea! How about you pick your favorite and we’ll undock it for your birthday?” she said gleefully.

“Him,” Elizabeth said without hesitation, pointing at the male, “he likes me.”

“He sure does,” Rayleen agreed.

Rennie rose to his feet to work out the details with Rayleen, and Elizabeth picked up her puppy, and handed him to May Alice.  “See Mama, look’it his eyes.”

Twenty minutes later the family was bidding goodbye to the rest of the litter, and to Rayleen, when Elizabeth had a last minute apprehension about the adoption.  She turned to the adults, “Won’t his mama be sad?  And won’t he will miss his sissies?” May Alice and Rennie were taken aback; how could not have seen that coming? Of course she might be sensitive to such a scenario.

Gratefully, Rayleen, having some prior experience with litters, stepped in, and explained, “His mama will be sad, but she has raised him up, and now, it’s time for her to let him go and find his own family to raise.  He will be protected and loved by you, and that’s all any good mama would want for her babies.  Don’t you think?  And look at him, he’s so happy to go with you!”  That made Elizabeth smile, and she accepted that she was doing a good thing.  She hugged Rayleen at the knees, and thanked her and directed her to tell his mama, she could visit him any time, which made Rayleen laugh.

On the drive home, Elizabeth had remained animated and talkative.  She was so reminiscent of her former self that May Alice and Rennie almost forgot the relevance. “Do you think that he will be happy with us, Mama?”  She asked.

“I do; I think he’s going to love having so many human brothers and sissies too.”

“What should we name him?” Elizabeth asked.

Rennie offered, “Well I’ve always waited a few days before naming my pets.  That gives ‘em a chance to show you who they are, what they like, and then a name usually just comes to you.”

“How ‘bout Brutus?” Elizabeth said.  May Alice burst out laughing, at both the name, and the fact that Rennie just got bested by his three-year-old. 

She looked at the girl and said, “I love it.”

“Brutus,” Elizabeth repeated to the puppy.

“You two just don’t need anyone else, do you?” Rennie joked to May Alice.  She patted him on the thigh and pressed herself into him.  Although he was driving, he turned his head, and returned the kiss she was delivering.  He was selfishly a little disappointed that they got the puppy that day, knowing Elizabeth would be too excited to nap, eliminating his chance to seduce May Alice, which had been his plan since the moment he learned Chantelle would be out for the afternoon.  He was elated to learn, only an hour later, how wrong he’d been about that.  Elizabeth and the puppy both fell asleep in the living room floor about a half hour after they’d returned home. 

Fearing it wouldn’t last, May Alice wasted no time in initiating a trip to her bedroom.  Rennie had gone into the bedroom to get Elizabeth’s blanket to cover her with and by the time he’d returned, May Alice was already on the bed with her top off.  He leapt to her, ripping his own shirt off and getting right down to business with the rest of their clothing.  What followed was a hurried, messy, unromantic, overdue and, very satisfying, tryst.  “You did well, Mr. Boudreaux,” May Alice said once they’d caught their breath. “I wasn’t sure you could perform on such short notice.”

“Well,” he said, as he left her and rolled over beside her, “I had a lot of motivation.”  They both laughed, then, feared they’d wake Elizabeth and Brutus.  They lay together for some time, enjoying each other, and the quiet still happening around them.  Soon, Rennie moved his hand to May Alice’s belly and asked if she could feel anything there.

“I did, in New York, I think.”  She explained how she thought she felt something and then told him of the immense calm that settled into her after.  As she described it to him, she recalled she’d had that same sense visit her another time, even before New York.  The dream, she remembered. “Oh my God, Rennie, my dream,” she said.  She rolled over and faced him and told him about her recurring dream.  She had trouble remembering all the versions, except for the last few, where no one was waving to her from the island named Misère, and when the passion fish had changed into an infant.  He listened intently and smiled upon the conclusion. 

“Guess we Coon-Asses know a thing or two after all?” he said, referring to the legend of the passion fish he’d shared so long ago with her and Chantelle. 

“And what might those legends say, about a still-sleeping angel, and little puppy?” she asked with a wicked smile.

“Ah think,” he said, in his best French-Cajun dialect, “dem’s a sign you’ll wake up wid a beautiful, naked woman next to you – well, look at that!” he said reaching for her and starting another passionate exchange.  She laughed into his kiss, and immediately her hands roamed their way down his torso, working between his legs to encourage a command performance.  Like the previous one, he did not disappoint.

“Can you imagine the trouble you’d be in, if all of me could feel you?” she said slyly after, and as they dressed, and prepared for Denita’s return.  He knew she was kidding, but he wished she could know the same joy he did when making love with her.  Still, he was happy to know she could feel their child inside of her, a feeling he would never know.  “You know,” she said, all kidding aside, “We still have a lot to talk about.”

He knew.

Denita was shocked at the sight of the new puppy, and Elizabeth’s emotional turn around.  She was also a little anxious that her mother was not home.  Chantelle had not told Denita that morning that she’d be visiting Sugar that day.  May Alice could see the apprehension, and assured Denita her mother would be home soon.  She invited the girl to take Elizabeth and the puppy out back to play for a little while; she promised her she would help her with homework after dinner, which was a huge breach in Denita’s routine, but the girl happily accepted.

Within the hour, Chantelle had returned, and Rennie and Elizabeth had packed up.  All that was left was to decide about Brutus and his whereabouts for the evening, the assumption being he’d be departing with Elizabeth and Rennie.  May Alice was always just the back-up plan in case it was too much for the kids to have a dog at home.  Rennie approached Elizabeth and asked her if she thought Brutus would like to go home and meet the kids and spend the night.  To everyone’s surprise, she said no. “Pa, I think he likes it here,” she said.  “They can meet him tomorrow.  He should be our dog at Mama’s house.”  She bent over and picked up the ball of fur and said to him, “I will miss you Brutus, but Mama will take very good care of you, like she does me, and I will be back tomorrow.” She turned to May Alice and, as she hugged and kissed her goodbye, she reminded her, “Don’t forget to tell him we love him, so he will sleep.”

“I will not forget.”  She smiled at Elizabeth and told her she loved her.  Then she and Rennie kissed goodnight while Elizabeth said good bye to Denita and Chantelle.  Chantelle reminded her she never picked out a cake for her birthday so she’d just have to be surprised. 

“You have the best surprises!” she said, happily unworried about the cake.

“That is one amazing little girl,” May Alice said to Rennie, astounded by her unselfishness.

Rennie smiled, and said, “She’s so much like Acadia,” and May Alice nodded, realizing he was right.

As Rennie and Elizabeth drove home, he couldn’t help but inquire about her decision to leave Brutus.  It was so unexpected, he worried she was already bored by the new addition.  She further surprised him with her answer.  “I think he will keep Mama from missing us when we are not with her; she must miss us, don’t you think?  She is always so happy to see us.  Don’t you feel sad when we leave her?” 

“Well sure, she misses us, and we miss her, but she has Miss Chantelle, and now, Miss Denita to keep her company,” he pointed out.

“But they are each other’s, Pa.  Mama has no one.”  Rennie shook his head over this little girl.  He’d not realized her perception was that with every visit, she felt they were leaving May Alice behind.  After just a moment letting the bittersweet of that settle it he, oddly, became curious about Arlene.

“You don’t worry about your other Maw?  She’s alone after she leaves our house.”

“She is never as happy to see us as Mama is, and she has God,” the girl reasoned.  He understood so much better then.  While he’d been mostly right about the reasons behind Elizabeth’s depression, he’d had one part backwards.  He’d thought the girl’s despair was over her not being with May Alice; instead it was worry over May Alice not being with them.  What toddler, he wondered, could be so empathetic for an adult?  How could Arlene ever fathom abandoning such a sensitive girl?  She’d spent every day of the child’s life with her, how could she not have known?  He shook his head, thinking _One amazing little girl_ , _indeed._

When they arrived home, Arlene moved to greet the pair with a smile as they entered, and she immediately noticed that Elizabeth looked better.  Elizabeth ran past her and to the table where Missy and Sabine were setting up for dinner. 

“She had a good day,” Rennie confirmed. 

“I’m glad.  I bet she’s excited for her birthday.”

Rennie was saddened by the exchange with Arlene.  While she had noticed the change in Elizabeth, she didn’t seem to understand that a birthday was not what the girl had been missing.  He let it go, reasoning that it was he who was keeping Arlene from being with the kids more; she couldn’t possibly know them the way he did now because . . . because she’d been gone.  Gone, by choice, he quickly reminded himself, Arlene didn’t know her children because she’d chosen not to.  Yet, she was back and she was trying.  This was the circular dilemma he’d been continually falling into since her return and he had no idea how to stop it.

They turned to watch Elizabeth as she was animatedly telling her sister’s she had a big surprise waiting for them at Mama’s.  The girl’s looked at her, stunned by the apparent return of a much happier baby sister.  Everyone, including Arlene, looked to Rennie for confirmation.  Rennie smiled and told Elizabeth to tell them if she wanted, it was her surprise, after all.  “We got a puppy for my birthday!” she jumped up and down, and clapped with the news, and with the appearance of Jaxon and Acadia who had come in from the bedrooms upon hearing their father and sister come in.  They were all asking questions at once and Elizabeth was doing her best to tell everything.  Rennie looked at Arlene and found she was no longer smiling.

“A puppy? That’s a bit extravagant.  Who is going to take care of it when you’re out?” She asked.

“I have that taken care of.  I thought it would be good for her, and I think,” he motioned to the talkative toddler, “I’m right.”

“Well, as usual, I don’t have a say right now, but,” she lowered her voice and stared him down, “I am still her mother, and I will have a say in how she is raised, and much sooner than you might think.”

He moved her quietly out the door to the porch and, refusing to be intimidated by anything she might threaten, said, “You had your say, Arlene; for many years you had the only say, and you abused your say and now, you are living the consequences; just because you refuse to see those consequences, doesn’t mean they didn’t exist.  Now, I have told you, I am willing to let you be with them, but you will have to earn your right to be their mother again.  I can’t, and no court can, give you that.  That is solely up to the kids to determine.”

If Arlene had wanted to say anything in response, the kids rendered it impossible.  They all charged the door demanding to know if Elizabeth’s story was true.  He followed them back into the house and confirmed that indeed, there was a new puppy in the family.  Arlene followed also, and gathered her things.  Missy and Sabine, as usual, were the first to approach her with tight hugs and a good night kiss, which Arlene accepted and returned.  Acadia and Jaxon were far less accommodating, still, but the kids were always willing to wave or quickly hug her.  Elizabeth, since her depression, had not had any real exchange with her mother in the evenings.  That night however, Arlene approached her.  She bent down to be even with the toddler’s face and asked if she’s mind if her mother gave her a hug goodbye.  She told Elizabeth she’d not see her the following day, and so, she’d like to wish her a happy birthday with a hug and a kiss.  Every eye was on the pair, and Elizabeth reached out to her mother and hugged her around her neck.  Arlene held her for a moment, and then kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear that she loved her and wanted her to have a happy birthday.  She then released her.  She waved another goodbye to the others and, hurriedly, left.  Everyone saw that Arlene had tears in her eyes.

The exchange served to quell the excitement a little and the kids all finished setting up for dinner, still talking about the puppy, and how hard it would be to wait until after school the next day to see him.  Acadia mussed Elizabeth’s hair as they sat down to eat and told her she was happy to see the girl had a good day. 


	38. 38

**Chapter 38**

Rennie tucked Elizabeth into her bed, for the last time, as a three-year-old.  As he moved to kiss her and say he loved her, she reached for an embrace from him.  He held her snugly, still amazed by this child’s sensitivities.

“I didn’t mean to make her cry.” Elizabeth said, quietly.

“I’m not sure you can understand why she is hurting.”  He said, as he released his hold on her.

“She went away, and we found Mama, and now she wants us back, but Mama needs us more.”

“Well, it’s not that simple.  You are a part of your Maw, and you always will be.  She was with you every day of your life before she left, she won’t just let you go; she can’t, Elizabeth.  If she could, she never would have come back.  But, she did come back.  Keeping you from her forever would be cruel.  And, you shouldn’t think that her caring for you, and loving you all that time was nothing.  I know May Alice was there for us when your Maw wasn’t, and she loves you every bit as much as your Maw, but she is not your mother, sweetheart.  May Alice understands that.”

Tears began welling in her eyes upon hearing that, and Rennie almost backed off, but just as he tried to find words, she whispered, “But Pa, I want to be with Miss May Alice.”  His heart was similarly, hopeful, as crushed, to hear her say May Alice’s name for the first time.  It showed she was already beginning to understand some of what he said, but he saw in her face she was not ready to let go of May Alice.

“I know; and right now, that’s how it’ll be, I promise.  But I want you to keep thinking about letting your Maw be with you too.  I want you to think about sharing yourself with both of them so neither has to be hurt.  Do you think you can do that?”  She shrugged her little shoulders, then reached her arms out to him for another embrace.  He smiled at her as he wiped her little tears off her face with the sleeve of his shirt.  He was amazed she could understand as much as she seemed to.

“Now, let’s not think about this anymore tonight.  I want you to think about the big day ahead of you, tomorrow.  You’ll be four, and you already have a big job training Brutus.”

She sniffed and lay back on her pillow and smiled, “I hope he’s okay, his first night away from his other family.”

“I will call and check on him, okay?”

“Thanks, Papa,” she said with a yawn.  Rennie said he loved her and turned off the light.

The following morning, Chantelle woke earlier than usual.  She had worried most of the night about how May Alice fared with the new puppy, who was being kept in her room, so as not to disturb Denita.  The puppy was in a crate, which, gratefully, Rayleen had already started training with, but Brutus still put up quite a whining fuss when they placed him in it the night before, and Chantelle had heard him a few times in the night.

She peeked into May Alice’s room and rolled her eyes at the sight.  The puppy was fast asleep right next to May Alice, on her bed.  Not having any sympathy for the sleeping woman, she entered the room and opened the curtains.  “You have got to be kidding me,” she said disdainfully to May Alice, who was complaining about the hour.  “You already let the dog out of the crate?”

“He was crying and I couldn’t make him stop.  It was only for a couple of hours.”  Chantelle didn’t cut her any slack, and reached for the dog to take him out to do some business.  May Alice fell promptly back to sleep, regardless of the sun, which was just beginning to stream in on her.

Elizabeth awoke with Acadia’s stirring about the room preparing for school.  Acadia saw her sit up and went to hug her sister.  “Happy Birthday, Lizzie,” she said and kissed the girl on the forehead.  Soon each of the girls had stopped, on their way in, and out, of the bathroom they all shared, to wish the girl a happy birthday.  Only Jaxon had to be roused awake that morning.  The family ate breakfast, packed lunches, and spoke happily about all the fun Elizabeth would have that day.  Her sister’s had, during their afternoons with Arlene, made the girl a water color painting of a figure resembling her, and her favorite bunny under the large willow tree in May Alice’s back yard.  Acadia had done the initial drawing and Missy and Sabine painted it.  Arlene bought a plain wooden frame for it, for them.  They’d had to hide the painting daily, before Elizabeth and Rennie arrived home, so he knew nothing about it until Acadia called him away from the table that morning just as the other kids were clearing their dishes.  She took him into Jaxon’s room, where they’d hidden the, now wrapped, painting in Jaxon’s closet.  Acadia told him he’d need to try to hide it from Elizabeth, but to take it to May Alice’s so she’d have it to open after they all met up after school, for her party.  Rennie began to think he’d never cease to be amazed by these children.  He assured Acadia he was up to the challenge.  He told her he would return for it later in the day, when Elizabeth went down for her nap.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

“He did well, Mom,” Denita said, upon returning with Brutus from the back yard.  “He pooped a lot for such a little guy.”  She held up the poop filled bag.

“And you gave him a treat while he was doing it?” Chantelle asked while taking the bag from Denita and depositing it in the trashcan on the back porch.

“Yep.”

“Great,” she said, “now if we can just get May Alice trained.”  Denita laughed at that; her mother having told her about finding the puppy asleep with May Alice that morning.  The mother and daughter enjoyed breakfast together, while Brutus played around their feet, and May Alice caught the last bits of sleep before she’d have to prepare for her swim therapy. 

“He’ll be a good watch dog, and that breed is really smart too,” Denita said, “I looked it up on the computer last night.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Chantelle said, impressed by the initiative Denita had shown.

A half hour later May Alice met Denita, just as she was leaving for the bus stop.  She hugged the girl and wished her a good day and thanked her for helping with Brutus.  “You’re welcome, Miss May Alice, but, from what I hear, it’s you that needs training,” she couldn’t resist saying with a giggle, on her way out the door.  May Alice had to laugh too; she feared she’d not be living that down for a while.

The daily morning mass ended, and Arlene returned to the Mother Superior’s office to receive her instructions for the day.  She entered and was surprised to see a large bouquet of pink and white gerbera daisies sitting on her small desk.  “Those came for you,” The Mother Superior, Anna said, “They’re lovely.”

“Yes, they are,” Arlene responded absently, mired in wonder over who they could be from.  She located the card and opened it. It read: _Four years ago, we welcomed a remarkable fifth child into our lives.  I can’t thank you enough for her. I’m sorry about today, but it won’t always be like this; she just needs more time.  Rennie._ Arlene’s breath hitched in her throat, and she excused herself from the Mother Superior, still clutching the card in her hand.  She made her way into the restroom and cried for ten minutes. 

As Rennie drove with Elizabeth to May Alice’s, he hoped he’d not been out of line sending Arlene flowers.  He couldn’t imagine how hard that day might be for her, not seeing her youngest child on her birthday, and he’d appreciated that she’d not fought him too much on it.  The flowers were a small gesture, an olive branch, to let her know she was not forgotten.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!” May Alice exclaimed as Elizabeth came bounding through the front door calling for Brutus.  The puppy ran in from the kitchen and hit the wooden floor and slid into Elizabeth knocking them both off their feet.  The toddler laughed and hugged the puppy who was so happy to see her he wet the floor.  Rennie scurried to pick up the puppy and spirit him outside, with Elizabeth following behind.  May Alice retrieved a paper towel and attempted to reach the mess from her chair.  “Well, we should have seen that coming,” she said, laughing, when Rennie and Elizabeth and Brutus returned.  Both Rennie and Elizabeth, then, took a moment to hug and kiss May Alice good morning.  Elizabeth commented that May Alice’s hair was wet, and she confirmed she’d just returned from the pool, and Chantelle had only just opened Brutus’ crate when the two of them arrived. 

The rest of the morning Rennie and Elizabeth worked, and played, with Brutus.  May Alice had showered and dressed for the day, then moved to help Chantelle prepare Elizabeth’s cake for baking.  By lunch time, the puppy, and the birthday girl were sufficiently tired out.  They could barely get Elizabeth to finish her sandwich before putting her down for a nap.  They were still elated that there was no evidence of the melancholy that had settled into her the previous week. 

While the girl napped, Rennie and May Alice talked on the dock and Rennie dropped a fishing line in the water, for the first time in many days.  At first, they just enjoyed being there together.  That was becoming so rare, they’d realized.  It seemed like the closer they became the further they were from one another.

“You’re not thinking wedding, right?” May Alice asked him, rather out of the blue.

“You don’t want one?” 

She laughed at the idea.  She’d not really thought about it, believing at best, it would be in poor taste.  “I think it would be good for the kids,” Rennie said.

She looked at him, intrigued.  “Really? Why?”

“I think it’s important that they understand marriage as a promise.  A promise we’re willing to make to each other in front of them.”  She didn’t respond, but he knew she’d not discount it.  He gave her another moment, then continued, “Unless you’re chicken?” he said with a wink.

“ _Chicken_?” she repeated, challengingly, “Well, actually,” she continued, remembering she was in fact that, “I am kind of chicken, but I see your point.  How about a small, really small, family ceremony, not so much a wedding, per se?”  Rennie liked that idea.  “And, what about our next addition?” She asked, motioning to her belly. “When do we break that news?”

They continued discussing both topics over the next two hours.  They agreed moving out of May Alice’s house was counterproductive to everything they’d built together there, literally, and figuratively.  Her home had become the focal point of their budding life together, and May Alice said she’d not leave it.  Rennie was happy about that.  He’d always felt at home there, even when he was just that kid selling bait to her father.  Not only did May Alice insist they all live there, Chantelle and Denita included, she also suggested they marry there. 

As they reflected on how much had occurred that year, they inevitably recalled that Christmastime had been the start of it all.  While they’d enjoyed a happy Christmas that first year, the aftermath of Arlene’s disappearance is what they feared the kids might recall more, when the time came again.  They decided, to marry around Christmas that year, in hopes of giving everyone a happier memory for the years to come.  They also agreed that the sooner they explained about the baby, the better, but May Alice was willing to wait a little while longer, to allow Elizabeth to really feel secure in the new environment and routine, and truthfully, she was still not looking forward to Arlene’s reaction.  It was the only apprehension she had left about the pregnancy. 

Upon the conclusion of their hours on the dock, Rennie pulled his legs up from the edge and moved to his knees in front of May Alice.  He removed his hat, reached out for her and pulled her into a tender, deep kiss.  When they parted, he said, “I never knew I could be this happy.” 

“Me either.”

They returned to the home, where an hour later, everyone would celebrate Elizabeth’s birthday.  She’d remained happy, and engaged, and when Chantelle presented her with a pastel speckled cake with pink icing and a bunny’s face drawn on it, courtesy of icing pens, and Acadia, the girl declared it the prettiest cake she’d ever seen.  She ate two pieces all by herself, and only when everyone promised her that Brutus’ poop would turn pink, did she refrain from offering him his piece.  Elizabeth’s fourth birthday would become a distant memory, with the many that would follow, but for that day, for Rennie and May Alice, and all the important decisions they’d made, it was the perfect representation of the life they’d planned to have together.


	39. 39

**Chapter 39**

Having crafted their strategy that Thursday on the dock, May Alice approached Chantelle Friday evening, after Denita had gone to sleep.  Knowing Saturday would again, be a busy day around the home, Chantelle was preparing to head upstairs herself, and get to bed.  She took Brutus out for one more bathroom break and when she returned with him through the back door, she saw May Alice facing her in the kitchen.  She looked worried, and Chantelle noticed her trying to hide her hands, which she had just been wringing.  She stopped, and let Brutus run past to May Alice where he hopped up in her lap and began licking her face.  As May Alice pet the puppy, and tried to settle him a bit, she asked Chantelle if she had a few minutes to talk.  She held Brutus, and was glad he quickly lay in her lap, she needed the comfort right then.  Chantelle confirmed she had time, and sat at the table to the side of May Alice.  “Rennie and I finally had the chance to talk about everything.”

“Uh huh,” Chantelle said, cautiously.  She was nervous at seeing May Alice so nervous.

May Alice was reeling inside; all the calm and self-assuredness she’d had since they day she told Rennie about the baby was suddenly AWOL.  Although Chantelle hadn’t immediately bolted upon word of the pregnancy, May Alice never allowed herself, until that day, to think that maybe Chantelle really wouldn’t want to stay, once the families merged.  The thought seized her, and her mind raced, thinking she should have planned a speech, she should have had some great thing prepared to say about how much Chantelle meant to her, and how important her being with the family was to her, about how nothing she’d accomplished could have been possible without Chantelle. 

“Y’know, we don’t have to do this tonight,” Chantelle offered, believing May Alice wasn’t quite ready to deliver whatever news she had, and maybe Chantelle wasn’t ready to hear it.  However, it was exactly what May Alice needed; she panicked, afraid to give Chantelle the wrong idea.

“I need you,” she blurted out.  “I . . . I mean, I want you. Here. With us.”  Finally, hearing the awkwardness of her words, she fought to find her voice, and continued, “What I mean, is Rennie and I want to be together, all of us, in this house, but not without you and Denita.  I mean, of course, we can be– but we don’t, _I_ don’t, want to be.  I don’t want to not have you here, and I’m so worried you won’t want to stay, that I can’t seem to speak coherently.”  She squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating how badly she’d fumbled in the end zone.

Chantelle was relieved.  She had, in the week following Rennie and May Alice’s obvious engagement, worried what life would be like if she no longer worked for May Alice, and she and Denita lived alone.  She knew her father trusted her more, knowing May Alice was right there, every day, to help keep a watchful eye on her, maybe keeping her too busy to slip up.  If she no longer had that assurance for him, she feared he would take Denita right back to Chicago, convinced Chantelle couldn’t be trusted on her own.  In the hours when she did think about, what if, she came to realize that she liked being a part of that big, eclectic, odd, mismatched family, and she would miss all of them terribly.  She realized that she truly thought of May Alice as more than a friend, and certainly, so much more than her employer, she was her family.  Her mind quickly found its way back to remembering their first days together, and how, if anyone had told her a year and half later, that she’d not only still be there, but happy to be there, she may have gone right back to being a drug addict. 

“I understand, completely,” May Alice started again, “if you don’t want to; it’s so much to ask, and you have your own family-”

“You are my family,” Chantelle interrupted simply.  “You, and Denita.  So, if you want to make a new family, with us in it, I’m in. We’re in.”

“Baby, puppy, kids, and all?” May Alice said smiling, understanding that Chantelle was saying yes.

“Baby, yes, those kids, yes– puppy?  Um, we’ll see,” she said playfully.  Both chuckled, with obvious relief.

“Thank God, Chantelle.  Thank you,” May Alice said, gratefully.

“You’re welcome.  You know, God definitely did have some hand in all of this.  No family could have come together so awkwardly all on their own,” she teased.

After she’d gone to bed, May Alice thought about that statement.  Was it God, or fate, or total random bullshit that led her to her ultimate happiness?  She had always believed in God, but the manifestation of Him in her adult life had been largely forgotten, or ignored.  When she’d had her accident, she thought about God for the first time, in a long, long time.  She was angry at having lived and being deprived of the life she’d carefully crafted for herself.  She’d decided then, it was far easier to blame God for allowing that to happen to her than it was to recognize that, maybe, her life should have a greater purpose than what she’d settled for.  Then, with Arlene, she’d witnessed what could happen when people became so mired in religion they could endanger the very children they’d been graced with.  Sure, Arlene was an extreme example, but to May Alice, she’d proved that God could be just as harmful to people as not, and that was not a welcoming thought, at all. 

It was not until the moment she realized she could be pregnant, that she’d thought again about God.  Not that she had really thought about Him, but more like, questioned if He was punishing her, or giving her a second chance with this child?  From that moment on, she’d found herself being visited by memories of her mother; the one person who had introduced her to, and embodied all she knew of God.  She recalled her compulsion to pray that first night after those memories arrived, and how she woke to an unwavering sense of peace.  She remembered having the same feeling again in New York, both at Windows on the World and, again, in the cathedral when she was blessed by the Father there, and how he’d repeated words she’d imagined her mother to have said to her.  She guessed many things leading her to this moment could have been fate, but, she knew the child growing inside her was not due to anything as random as that.  The miracle of life, she’d never disbelieved, that was God. 

How ironic, she thought; her willing participation in many of the sins she’d once believed she’d burn in hell for, were the very things that had, not only brought her back to God, but also delivered her all the happiness she’d ever prayed for.  _Maybe not so ironic, May Alice_ , she heard her mother’s voice say, as she fell asleep, _maybe just God, delivering on the promise he makes to all his children._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Many things fell into the place for the families in the weeks following Elizabeth’s birthday.  By mid-October, Rennie and May Alice, eager to be together, decided they didn’t want to wait any longer to tell the children about the plans for the family’s future. 

They allowed Chantelle time to tell Denita first, since the information might impact her more than any of the others.  Second to Arlene’s reaction, May Alice worried most about Denita’s.  Her home, the home she’d only known for several months, was about to be invaded by six other people, and soon, an infant.  She would no longer have a room to herself, and unlike the other kids, she didn’t get the benefit of gaining another parent with the move.  Chantelle was fairly certain Denita would be fine, but May Alice was not as sure.  She recalled, as an only child, the oddness of being tossed into a dorm full of other girls and still feeling utterly isolated.  As it turned out, the news of the merger was welcomed by Denita, and the only thing she was worried about was whether to share a room with her mother, or her friends. 

Chantelle also told her father about Rennie and May Alice’s plan to marry, and combine households into theirs.  Dr. Blades, unbeknownst to his daughter, was secretly pondering a marriage of his own, and was happy for the couple.  He was encouraged too, that Denita was excited about her friends moving in, even when it meant she’d be sharing a bedroom.  Yet, he was worried for Chantelle.  He praised her year and half of sobriety, but warned that she and May Alice were going from a very controlled, routine life together, to one filled with far less of either.  He questioned how much May Alice would need Chantelle’s nursing skills now that she was more independent, and would have additional help.  Chantelle reminded him the additional help, were all under the age of twelve, and May Alice was still paralyzed and couldn’t possibly maintain five kids, a puppy, and a husband, and still take care of herself.  He conceded that was probably accurate.  “But since you’re worrying,” she felt she needed to add, “I left out that there’s also a baby coming into the mix, in the spring.”  Dr. Blades was silent, which surprised her.  Chantelle hadn’t thought that information a show-stopper, but she figured he might as well know the whole picture.  Finally, he spoke.

“Who’s baby?”

“Rennie’s, of course,” she said, completely missing the implication of his question.  Then it dawned on her, and she began to laugh.  “May Alice is pregnant, Daddy, not me.  She’s due in the spring.”  She went on to explain that they’d not told the kids yet, in case there might be complications. 

To his utter relief, Dr. Blades laughed a little too.  He voiced the same opinion May Alice’s doctor’s had, that she was in excellent condition, and shouldn’t experience major issues with going full term, even at her age.  He was happier then, to know that May Alice had wanted Chantelle to stay. 

On Saturday, October 23rd Rennie informed his kids that they would not be going to the library that morning.  He explained that he and May Alice had a surprise for them, and they would hear all about it at breakfast.  They loaded up into the truck and headed out.  The kids could see how happy Rennie was and that made them ever the more curious about what the surprise could be.  They kept begging him for hints, and failing his participation, they grilled Elizabeth, convinced her extended time with May Alice must have revealed something.  Elizabeth laughed at them.  She liked the attention, but truly had no more idea about it than the others did.  By the time they arrived at the Culhane home, Acadia, Missy and Sabine were all leaping from the truck to be the first to the door.  Chantelle greeted the inquisitive kids and motioned each to the table where breakfast was about ready.  A huge plate full of pancakes greeted them, along with a pound of bacon.  As the others had all settled in around the table and began questioning Chantelle about the surprise, Rennie properly greeted May Alice with a passionate kiss.  They, too, joined the others, and Rennie, teasing the kids even further, began loading up his plate with food while they all looked expectantly to him for word on the surprise.  Missy and Sabine began their begging again, demanding to know how he could eat, “at a time like this.”

“At a time like what?” he said, “It’s breakfast time, and I’m hungry, aren’t’ you?” he asked, smiling, pouring syrup over the large stack of pancakes he’d loaded on to his plate.  He was met with various exclamations of Pa, and Daddy, and finally, he stopped his teasing.  He remained smiling, as May Alice’s hand replaced the syrup bottle in his.  He looked to each of his kids and said, “Miss May Alice and I, because we love each other, don’t want us all to live apart anymore.  We think it would be good for all of us to live here.”  He, and May Alice, watched as the table of small faces erupted into smiles and shrieks of approval from the older girls.  Jaxon reached for the bacon, and Elizabeth, and her bunny, made their way to Rennie’s lap, where she handed the bunny off to May Alice, and wrapped both her little arms around Rennie’s neck. 

She whispered to him, “Thank you, Daddy.”  He hadn’t thought he could have been any happier at the reactions of the kids, but Elizabeth’s understanding touched him like no other.  He held her tight and felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes.  He felt May Alice’s hand stroke his shoulder, but he continued to embrace Elizabeth for several moments more.

The other kids had moved on to talking over each other excitedly, and asking many logical questions, which May Alice was busily trying to address for them.  She confirmed that, yes, Denita and Chantelle would be staying too.  As the immediate questions tapered off, the girls all began eating.  Rennie broke his hold with Elizabeth and motioned for her to go sit and eat.  Before she did, she took the bunny back from May Alice and hugged her, and said, “I love you, Mama.”  May Alice stroked her hair, and said she loved her right back.

As the families ate, they all discussed when the move might happen.  At some moment, Rennie noticed Acadia was not saying much.  She didn’t look unhappy, but rarely was she not part of any conversation, especially, where planning was involved.  May Alice was reminding the group that rushing to move was all right with her, but she wanted them to be sure they had time to think about leaving the only home they’d ever known.  Rennie took the opportunity to draw Acadia out.  “Acadia, when do you think a good time to start moving might be?”

She didn’t answer right away.  She sat her fork down, and wiped her mouth with her napkin.  Then she met Rennie’s eyes, and said, “If you love each other, why aren’t you getting married?”

Rennie’s face turned red, and he looked at May Alice, who was smiling at him and reaching, again, to stroke his arm.  Simultaneously, they answered, “We are.”

“That’s a part of the surprise, I guess, I forgot to mention,” Rennie offered to his oldest child.  To his relief, Acadia smiled back at him.

“Good.”  She said, amidst the newest squeals of approval from her siblings.

Rennie, having grabbed May Alice’s hand moments before, looked at his wife-to-be for affirmation that he should continue with the final surprise.  She smiled and nodded to him.  “And, there is still one more surprise.”  The kids all fell silent for the first time, maybe, ever.  The reaction took Rennie by surprise, and he faltered a moment, as they all stared at him, amazed there could be anything more to follow.  “We, uh – we’re going to have a baby,” he said to the table.

Silence prevailed for a few moments while the news percolated.  Elizabeth, of course, was too young to really understand, but the others all had siblings born after them.  Each of the girls felt something different about the news, but none voiced anything right then.  Denita had already been briefed.  Jaxon broke the silence, with a serious declaration that he hoped this one would be a boy.  May Alice smiled at him, grateful for his ability to always accept whatever life threw at him, and move on.

“I know this is an awful lot of change to think about, all at once,” she offered to everyone, “but I have come to know, and love each of you, so much, that I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“But, you wanted a baby of your own?” Sabine finally asked.

“Oh . . .” May Alice said, realizing she’d not really thought about anything beyond telling the kids about a new baby, “no, it’s not that.  Not exactly,” she stammered, feeling like she was painting herself into a corner.

“I wanted one,” Rennie interjected.  “I wanted to have a baby with Miss May Alice,” he fibbed, “ to bridge us together; to make us all a part of this new family, together.”

“Wow,” Sabine said, apparently impressed.

“That’s so sweet, Pa,” Missy said, touched by such a gesture by her father.  It was sweet, May Alice thought, as she squeezed Rennie’s hand, and offered him a sincere smile of thanks. 

“When will the baby come?” Missy asked, “Miss May Alice, you don’t even look pregnant.”

“Well, that part will come very soon,” May Alice answered, instinctively moving her hands to her belly, “but the baby won’t be here until the spring.  April or May.”

“That’s perfect,” Acadia chimed in.  “We will be out of school just in time to help with her,” then remembering Jaxon’s request, she quickly added “or him.”  She moved to May Alice and hugged her.  “I told you you’d make a good Ma” she said.

“Thank you, sweetheart.  I am so happy that she, or _he_ ,” she emphasized, “will have such a loving big sister.  You’re an incredible girl, Acadia.”

Acadia smiled and said, “I’ll be a good daughter too. I promise.”

Those words moved May Alice.  She reached, once more, for Acadia and held the girl tightly, while she whispered to her, “You don’t have to promise, you always have been.”

As breakfast ended, there had been much focus on the pending moves and discussion of whom, among the girls, wanted to room with whom.  It was a given that Jaxon would need his own room.  There was no more real talk about the baby that day.  Before everyone departed to the back yard to play, Rennie mentioned to the group that he had not yet explained the new living arrangements with their mother, but said he would make time to do that soon, and they needn’t worry about telling her themselves. 

May Alice suggested to Rennie that afternoon that he couldn’t wait too long to tell Arlene.  She knew the kids would eventually say something that would give it away.  He agreed, and explained he’d only not told her, yet, because he hadn’t decided what to do about his house.  He told May Alice that selling it would leave Arlene without a place to be with the kids, but, he also knew she couldn’t afford to keep up a house on her own.  May Alice suggested he ask Arlene what she might like; that doing so might allow her to see he was trying to include her in decisions regarding their kids.  She also reminded him that money was not a big issue for them, if they decided to keep his house.  He knew, but disliked that fact; he knew she had money, but he wanted to provide for his family, it is what all good father’s, and husbands did.  Even more, Rennie had so much respect for the late Everett Culhane, he would not, especially as an adult, feel worthy of marrying the man’s daughter if he couldn’t provide for her himself.  He felt he was in enough trouble, with the man, for getting his daughter pregnant before marrying her.  May Alice laughed when Rennie voiced those thoughts, but she was touched that he honored her father’s memory in such an old-fashioned way; like they were still those little kids who’d once shared crushes on each another.

“I guess we’re always our parents’ children,” she said.


	40. 40

**Chapter 40**

The discussion between Rennie and Arlene went much better than he’d expected.  He had started by reiterating to her what he’d told her weeks before at the library, that he loved May Alice and intended to marry her; the difference, that day, being that he had proposed, and she had accepted, and they would marry in December.  He then told her that they did not plan to wait until that time to merge the households.  He would be moving the kids into May Alice’s home soon.

Arlene listened to everything he had to say and didn’t speak until she was certain he’d finished his declaration.  She had spent many hours praying for guidance on how to react to this man she no longer knew as her husband.  She had sought counsel from the Mother Superior, and Sister Nancy through the weeks, as well.  She’d confessed to them that she did not know if she ever loved Rennie, and she’d explained to them how the two had come to be together in the first place.  With their counsel, she’d come to see how fortunate she’d been that Rennie had been a decent man to her, and to their children.  With the security she found in their sound advice, and acceptance, she realized she no longer harbored ill thoughts about Rennie, or his wanting to embark on a new life with May Alice.  In fact, in the weeks she’d spent with kids after school, she had begun to see May Alice through her children’s eyes.  The way they spoke of her affection for them, her encouragement of their talents, and her ability to make them smile, even when she wasn’t present, provided testament to the kind of woman she must be.  She, herself, was unable to forget the beautiful words she’d written to Acadia in her birthday story binder, and the way she calmed Elizabeth that terrible, stormy afternoon.  All those instances provided undeniable proof that May Alice was far from the kind of person Arlene had accused her of being, and she was often ashamed of the things she’d said to Rennie about her. 

She was amused listening to Rennie, how formally he was addressing her, laying out the plan for his life, like she was his attorney instead of the mother of his children.  She conceded that, perhaps, she had set the tone for that the last time they’d really spoken, and she had reacted so poorly.  She would approach him completely differently, that day, armed with the peace she’d found with this new path she was walking.  She started by smiling at him, then started, “Rennie, I think it’s really wonderful that you found someone you can truly love.”  Next, she approached him, and took one of his hands in hers, and continued, “I know I was not kind to you, toward May Alice, the last few times we were together, and I am ashamed of my behavior.  I’m working hard to be a happier, and kinder woman and, one day, I hope you can both see me that way.  It just takes time, and sometimes I stumble.”

Rennie was dumbstruck.  He knew, in the several weeks that she’d been helping with the kids, she’d softened, and she had gotten better about showing them true affection; but she’d still had an edge with him.  He’d believed it to be some deep rooted resentment at him for surviving without her.  But right then, all of that seemed absent, or, at the least, acknowledged.  She seemed completely genuine and he had no idea how to react.  It took him a moment to recover but when he did, he found they were able to carry on a coherent, meaningful exchange.  Still, as he arrived at the part about expecting a baby, he waited for the atmosphere to turn.

“Well,” she said slowly, but without ire, “That is unexpected news, I have to admit.”  He gave her a moment to recover, or muster up that edge he had become used to. 

“Obviously,” he interjected quietly, “it wasn’t planned, but I honestly couldn’t be happier about it.”

She did feel something about that news, something probably akin to jealousy, or resentment, but she quickly remembered how those emotions had not served her well.  She would continue to ask for God’s help with keeping them at bay.  She patted his arm for focus.  “Of course, you should be.  It’s a blessing.”  He remembered she’d said that about their children too, and hearing her say it again then, about a child that was not theirs together, gave him hope that maybe she really was becoming that kinder, happier person.

They continued, tentatively, with a new understanding of one another, and the newest situations facing them.  Rennie brought up keeping the house so she would have a place to spend her time with the kids more comfortably.  She appreciated the gesture, but admitted she did not have fond memories of the house anymore.  She suggested he sell the home, and she would look for a smaller place that they could better afford, and that would allow her to forge her own new relationship with the kids.  Rennie believed that a thoughtful solution. 

She further surprised him by offering him advice about May Alice.  She explained that, in her experience, planned or unplanned, news that you’re going to be a mother was terrifying at best.  “You never think you’re smart enough, or strong enough, or ready enough,” she told him.  With May Alice’s physical limitations, and the major changes coming to her living arrangement, she cautioned him to watch that she didn’t become overwhelmed by all of it.  “You won’t know if you’re not looking, because we hide our insecurities well.”  She further explained that nothing grandiose was required, just small words of encouragement, or a touch, or smile, could do wonders for an expectant mother.  He appreciated her unexpected words.  He’d already believed, every day, he was neglecting May Alice by not being there with her; the thought that May Alice might be putting up a brave front for him made him want to run to her, and hold her, and never let her go.  He thanked Arlene for the advice, and he said he hoped he’d been a good husband to her during her pregnancies.  She admitted to him he had been, when she’d allowed it.  When they felt they had covered the immediately pressing agenda, they parted ways with a sincere, loving embrace that left both feeling like maybe they’d be friends again one day and that they’d brokered a lasting peace. 

In the weeks that followed, the tentative friendship held.  Arlene had maintained her own sense of well-being through her continued help with the kids after school, as well as being instrumental in helping Rennie with the clearing out of their house, in preparation for the move to May Alice’s.  She encouraged the kids to ask her anything they wanted or needed to, with regard to the changes happening to their family life, but no one did.  Sometimes, she still faltered, usually when thinking about May Alice’s unborn child.  She remembered being happiest in her life when she was carrying a child, and she was sometimes resentful that her children would now have a sibling that included no part of her.  But, more and more, she was simply sad for herself.  To combat her failings, she would often include May Alice, and the unborn child, in her prayers for her family, and to His credit, she did find she harbored less jealousy as the weeks passed.

As for the Culhane household, in an unexpected twist, Denita, Missy and Sabine suggested they all room together in “the big room” as they called it, the master bedroom, where they could share the one attached bathroom, balancing out some of the traffic in the smaller bathroom to be shared by the others.  That would leave Acadia to room with Elizabeth, Jaxon on his own, and Chantelle wouldn’t have to move.  Chantelle was actually impressed with the suggestion and she agreed to it, as did Acadia, knowing that Elizabeth was inherently quieter than her other two other sisters.  She warned Denita about what she was getting into, but Denita loved the idea of having roommates.  Once everyone vowed they were okay with the set-up, Rennie set out to build custom bunk beds for Missy and Sabine, to maximize the space in the master bedroom.  Denita wanted to keep the canopy bed she’d been in that was once May Alice’s.

By Halloween, every room in Rennie’s house had been divided in two, with one half being things that would move with the children, and the other, being readied for garage sales, or donation.  The main rooms’ items were somewhat the same, in that whatever Arlene wanted to keep, they would place in storage, until she found a permanent place.  Rennie found he had very few things in the house that he cared to keep; the majority of his belongings consisted of fishing and hunting gear, his boat, and tools.  All of those things, would move into a large garage that was, presently, being built to replace the dilapidated old wooden structure at the Culhane home; the one that had most recently housed May Alice’s darkroom.  It had been neglected for years, and one good storm would have taken the whole thing down anyway.  May Alice had asked Rennie to consider having it demolished and a safer structure be placed.  With construction slowing in the fall, Rennie had plenty of friends willing to take the job.  He’d offered to section off a part for a replacement darkroom, but she had lost interest in the short lived hobby, and said it wouldn’t be necessary.

As for May Alice’s home, most of the furniture in the master bedroom, and the room that would become Jaxon’s, was antique and was neither desirable, nor fun for kids.  May Alice had contacted a dealer and had the items sold for a decent price.  With the money, she surprised Chantelle by suggesting she pick out all new furnishings for her room, as well.  It was the least she could do, she explained, for all the extra work.  May Alice did what she could for everyone, but, obviously she was no help with moving furniture or large boxes.  A lot of that fell to Chantelle, even though, Sugar, his kids, and several of Rennie’s friends also pitched in regularly.

By the time moving day arrived, most all the major work had happened already.  The Boudreaux house was nearly empty, with Arlene’s choices having been moved to storage; the Culhane home was arranged to allow for beds and dressers to be placed.  Little by little the clothing and trinkets belonging to the kids had moved in during the weeks of prep.  Rennie had called in a few favors with friends, and moved the last of everything by the second week of November.  Some trades had also occurred with the cleaning and shuffling of items.  Kemper White traded his pontoon boat to the family in exchange for May Alice’s boat.  Hardly a fair trade, but Kemper would have disagreed.  The antique dealer who sold May Alice’s furniture traded a mini-van for one vanity and chest of drawers that had been in the master bedroom.  The van would make hauling the kids around so much easier than Rennie’s truck or even May Alice’s father’s old car. 

Remarkably, through all the work happening from October to November, May Alice had kept up her physical therapy.  She remained strong and toned and, even at four months, she was still barely showing a baby bump.  She did require a lot more sleep, however.  Nevertheless., her inability to help with moving the heavy stuff freed her up to spend quality time with Elizabeth.  The three had grown ever closer, Elizabeth, May Alice, and Brutus.  Rarely would you find Brutus not beside one, or the other of them.  The routine had done exactly what they’d hoped.  Elizabeth was finally secure in the knowledge that any separation from May Alice was always temporary.  She had returned to calling Arlene, Maw, but also, still called May Alice, Mama.  By the end of October, Elizabeth had even taken to going to the library on Saturday’s with Arlene and the others and, after only two visits with Dr. Asher, had been given a full release with zero medications; just as Rennie had wanted. 

In that time, Acadia and Arlene had also repaired their relationship.  Maybe not so much repaired it, as replaced it, with a healthier version.  Arlene, Acadia learned, also exhibited adept drawing and painting skills, and that provided them much common ground.  Each stride Arlene made with the kids bolstered her self-esteem, and they were all learning that their mother was quite intelligent.  She read as voraciously as Sabine and Missy and she had a ton of creativity.  Not even Rennie had realized all that about her in their years together.  Her happiness, following her involvement in the Catholic Church, encouraged the kids to have a much healthier perspective about God, and religion in general, and she hoped that one day, they might show an interest in learning with her.  Her own family had remained estranged from her, and never reached out, since she’d left Baton Rouge, but she had found good friendships and support with the sisters, and the other members of the parish in Lafayette.  The parish was large and influential in the area, so, Arlene was meeting many new and interesting people from town, and she enjoyed the feeling of being part of such a community.

Denita and Chantelle had forged a small routine of their own, as well.  Every Sunday, they had started attending a Baptist Church Service, followed by lunch together somewhere in town, and then, if they had time, a matinee.  It provided them something that only they did together, not shared with the others.  It was Chantelle’s hope that allowing some time, dedicated to just Denita, would keep the lines of communication open between them.  For the moment however, Denita just enjoyed the attention, it made her feel special.

Only Rennie and May Alice had yet to find their routine.  They were always going in one direction or another; together, apart, whatever.  They missed their lazy lovemaking Saturday mornings together, and found little time to even have a full conversation.  The pace was, of course, temporary, but May Alice worried about when they would have time to be together, in that same way, and sometimes, she feared maybe it would not be temporary.  Sooner than they knew, she’d have an infant to take care of, on top of all the other priorities.  Rennie had forgotten, more often than he remembered, Arlene’s advice about reassuring May Alice periodically.  Whenever he did remember, it was rarely at a time when he could act upon it.  Still, he held her when he could, and kissed her every day, and even stole away some late nights to be with her.  The hard part was, they were both usually so exhausted, they still failed to share anything more intimate than sleep together.  Not that either was complaining, they just missed having time for more. 

To their happiness, they realized, only one week after everyone was in one house, they had time.  They finally got to sleep together every night.  With all the planning and moving completed, they were not so exhausted, and the intimacy returned, more passionately than they ever recalled.  Now whenever they were exhausted, it was for entirely more pleasurable reasons. 

Thanksgiving was approaching quickly and May Alice was looking more forward to it than she’d recalled in many years past.  One of those happy first nights together in their bed, she shared with Rennie, that Thanksgiving away from her family was the hardest time of the year for her as an adult.  When she was young, she explained, it was the one holiday that her parents spent solely with her.  They were huge entertainers, so every other holiday was shared with many friends, and family, but November was a big hunting month.  Everett Culhane loved to hunt, so the three of them would always have Thanksgiving dinner, then take off to wherever that year’s hunt would be, and would spend the rest of the three days, just the three of them, together.  It was the only time she truly felt like a part of them.  She had spent her adult years trying to fill that void by hosting her own lavish parties in New York but she admitted, she’d never succeeded. 

“I could take you huntin’, but it sure wouldn’t be just three of us,” he said playfully, hoping to make her smile.  She did smile.  He traced the side of her cheek with his finger, and said with sincerity, “Maybe this year will be different.”

“It will be,” she answered, and turned her face to meet his.  “I have real things to be thankful for now.” They shared a kiss, and soon Rennie’s hand found its way to her belly, where it met one of hers, already in place there. 

There was one void in their Thanksgiving celebration that year; Denita and Chantelle had gone to Chicago to spend the holiday with Dr. Blades and his girlfriend’s family.  While they’d been missed, the rest of the family had enjoyed a happy first Thanksgiving together.  Rennie and May Alice tackled the cooking together, the girls had all decorated, and made a beautiful table setting for everyone, complete with homemade pilgrims made of Styrofoam balls and felt clothing.  Acadia had drawn, painted, and cut out over seventy paper leaves to place over the tablecloth and between the pilgrims.  Jaxon showed Elizabeth how to make a turkey by drawing around her flattened hand on one of Acadia’s sketch pads.  He helped her color it, and it earned its rightful place on the refrigerator next to his. 

May Alice watched each of the kids as they milled about, doing things together, and apart, and she noticed that Missy seemed to be participating less than usual.  She’d thought the girl seemed less involved at times in the past couple of weeks, but she’d not made time to check in with her.  She wondered if it were as simple as the middle child syndrome, but Missy had always seemed so grounded, and sure of her place between her siblings.  As the girls cut out the leaves for the table, May Alice made her way past them, commenting on the lovely colors and shapes, and she patted Missy on the back and smiled at the girl.  Missy returned the smile but remained quiet most of the day. 

When the food was ready, the family gathered around the happy table, said a small prayer of thanks, and dug in.  Knowing the kids had not shared this kind of celebration together during the years when Arlene was mired in her former religion, Rennie and May Alice each found themselves watching the kids, more than usual, as though watching for the start of some new family tradition they hoped would carry the kind of special remembrances that their own youthful memories had.  Eventually, their eyes found their way to one another, and they shared their own unspoken words of thanks, while reaching to hold each other’s hand.  Once everyone had their fill, May Alice couldn’t help but remind them they still had pie.  There were pained groans from the kids, followed by laughter, and discussion about how full they all were.  Even Brutus, who’d gotten his first share of deliberate table scraps, was no longer begging.

It was cool out, but it was a mild, pretty day, and Rennie suggested they all take advantage of the last hour of sunlight for a quick walk around the property.  During the short journey, Acadia asked May Alice and Rennie what their Thanksgiving’s were like as kids and they each shared a memory or two about their own parents.  Missy liked the part of May Alice’s story in which May Alice’s mom would make each of them share something they were thankful for that year, and May Alice was encouraged that Missy was participating.  Sabine suggested they adopt that tradition and everyone agreed that would be a nice thing.  Rennie’s story included one about a particular Thanksgiving in which his father failed to show up on time for dinner.  He told how his father had gone out fishing that morning, like he did most mornings, but he’d promised to be home in time for Thanksgiving dinner.  But he had not shown up, so Rennie, his Mother, and his brother all waited, and waited.  Finally, he said, his Ma said they should go ahead with dinner, which they did.  About an hour later his Pa showed up, and was covered, head to toe, in mud.  He burst in through the front door and scared Rennie and his brother half to death because they couldn’t see anything but “swamp, in the form of a man with the eyes of my daddy,” Rennie explained. 

May Alice watched his kids as he built the story like so many he’d shared with them that year.  As always, he mesmerized them with his tales, that day being no exception.  She thought she could picture Rennie as a boy with the exact same reaction his kids were having.  The thought made her happy. 

As the tale went, Rennie’s dad said he’d been delayed because he’d found, and watched, some Indians hunt and kill a snake in the south bayou.  “Now you ain’t never seen nothin’ like this snake,” Rennie said, as his father must have, “big and fat, and ugly as a slug, this wasn’t just any ‘ol snake.  This was a thousand-foot-long snake that had only been rumored to exist.  That snake rose up out of the water in front of my daddy that morning and it asked him if he’d seen all them Indian folk who had been huntin’ ‘im.”  The kids giggled about a talking snake while Rennie continued, “Well my daddy said ‘no’ he ain’t seen no one of the like.  The snake looked long and hard at my daddy, got right up in his eyes, and said he didn’t think my daddy was lying, so he let him go; told him to get on out of there.  But just as my Pa reached the lake proper, he heard a terrible shriek.  He turned, and seen those very Indians, all descending into the swampland, huntin’ for that snake.  And they found him too, they fought him all that morning, and well into the late afternoon, chopping at him while he slithered and churned his body twisting to and fro.  It tossed up a mud storm like none my daddy had ever seen and it was why he was covered head to toe in it.  Well, as that snake began to die, his body swelled way up, and curved around, and finally, died away.  When it did, that thousand-foot of snake sunk into the earth, heavy with its size, and where it fell, water rose up over where his carcass sunk, and now, they’s a whole river there instead of a swamp,” Rennie finished.  His kids were speechless and May Alice was still smiling so big her cheeks hurt. 

“Is that a real story, Pa?” Sabine asked skeptically.

“It is.  They call it the Bayou Teche.  You can look it up.”  She would, and she’d learn that the legend wasn’t quite the way her Pa had heard it, but she didn’t complain.  He told the best stories and she could listen to them forever.

When the family returned to the house, Acadia and Rennie served the dessert, and they let Elizabeth dollop the whipped cream onto the slices of pumpkin pie.  They ate, and laughed about Rennie’s story, describing his Pa, covered in dry mud with nothing showing but his eyes.  Remembering the new tradition Missy had mentioned wanting to start, Sabine asked May Alice to start the round of what everyone was thankful for.  “I am most thankful for all of you, for letting me join your family, and for your Pa,” she looked to Rennie for the hundredth time that day, “for helping me bring this little one,” she held her hand to her stomach, “into it, too.”  The older girls uttered some form of “aww” at the statement, and then May Alice said, “Missy, you’re next.”

To everyone’s surprise, Missy declined.  She named Jaxon to go instead.

“Aw, Missy,” he said disdainfully.  The others chuckled at his shyness, but to their surprise he participated. “I am thankful for-”

“Fish,” Acadia inserted, making everyone else laugh, including Jaxon.

He stated again, “I am thankful for this house. It has brought us all together.” 

Everyone fell silent; no one except, maybe Rennie, expected Jaxon to even have an answer, much less one that was so insightful and true.  May Alice felt tears forming in her eyes.  Jaxon had said something so reminiscent of her own father, it moved her to her core.  Year after year at their Thanksgiving dinner, Everett Culhane would declare he was thankful, “for this house, for giving us a place to always come home to.”  A slight variation from Jaxon’s version, but, for May Alice, the sentiment was the same.  Her tears fell freely, and Rennie took his handkerchief from his back pocket, and wiped them, while the other kids continued the round.

Acadia said she was thankful for not being sick; she had recalled, the same time last year, and her predicament, and it was far from anything, anyone would have been thankful for. 

Sabine said, “Like Miss Ma,” she was thankful they were all together, “and for books.” She added, once again, making the family chuckle, even though she was dead-serious. “Okay Lizzie.  What are you thankful for?” she asked.

Elizabeth had moved from the table to the floor to play with Brutus during the others’ exchanges, and when her named was called, she looked up at everyone, then stood, and went to May Alice, who was still a bit misty-eyed, and threw her arms around her and said, simply, “Mama.”

“There’s a shocker,” Acadia said sarcastically, but, with a sincere smile on her face as she made eye contact with May Alice.  May Alice couldn’t help but smile back as she scooped up Elizabeth and hugged her tight.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she whispered to Elizabeth.

All eyes then turned to Rennie; he was overwhelmed by those past few minutes, watching, and hearing his family declaring a common theme, all having something truly worthy of being thankful for, and knowing that all of it, in some part, stemmed from the woman he’d fallen so deeply in love with.  “I’m thankful for my life, and all of you who make it worth living,” is what he decided might convey everything he was feeling. 

Everyone let his words settle in and, maybe, they were reflecting on their own memories; May Alice certainly was, and then, Sabine, looking to Missy, and realizing then, what May Alice had all day, that she just wasn’t ready to participate, skipped asking her, and finished with a reminder, “Oh, and we didn’t forget Miss Chantelle and Denita, we are thankful for them as well.”  Everyone agreed.

The rest of the evening was filled with a collective cleaning of the kitchen and table, and then preparations for bed.  Rennie took Elizabeth out with Brutus, for his last bit of business for the day.  As Denita had researched, Brutus was, indeed, a smart dog and had been house trained only two weeks after they’d gotten him.  He was good with all the kids and he was becoming a vigilant watchdog, alerting the family any time anyone approached the house.  He, not surprisingly, was partial to May Alice and Elizabeth but, apparently, realizing May Alice was now sleeping with Rennie, had relocated to Acadia and Elizabeth’s room to sleep at night.  However, he could be heard, from time to time, making the rounds from room to room, once everyone had moved in.  He was somewhat crate-trained, but May Alice had never stuck to making him sleep in it, so, the point was quickly becoming moot.  In the past several weeks, Rennie had been working with him, with some success, to fetch household items for him.  He was secretly testing Brutus to see if he might one day be able to provide some extra hands for May Alice around the house. 

Once the dishes had been done, the dog was settled, and the kids were all heading to bed, May Alice quietly asked Missy if she would stay with her a moment, while Rennie followed the rest of the crew upstairs, to tuck everyone else in.  Missy accommodated the request, but looked apprehensive.  May Alice felt awful seeing the look, but, she’d failed to make the time before to find out what was happening with the girl and she wouldn’t let that perpetuate.  She took Missy’s hand in hers, and said to the girl, “Honey, are you doing all right?”  The girl didn’t answer right away.  She held May Alice’s hand, but her eyes roamed the living room, as though looking for something.  Finally, she sighed, and let her blue eyes meet May Alice’s, and they immediately filled with little tears.  May Alice pulled her toward her, and wrapped her arms around Missy’s shoulders.  Soon she released her embrace, and motioned her into the window seat in the living room, which sat almost parallel with May Alice’s wheelchair.  Once seated, May Alice faced the girl.  As Missy wiped her fading tears with her hands, May Alice assured the girl that, whatever she was feeling, was okay. 

Finally, Missy was able to find some words.  “I feel like everyone belongs here, except me.”  The words stung May Alice; she remembered, completely, that feeling, but never would have expected it in any of Rennie’s girls, and especially, not Missy. 

“I am so sorry you would ever feel that way, honey.  There must be some reason for it, yeah?” she prompted.  Missy nodded.  “Can you tell me why?”  May Alice hoped the girl was not as clueless as she had been at her age, and could give her something to go on.

“Acadia can draw, and paint for you, and she just gets better and better; Sabine helps you write your stories, Jaxon helps Pa build things, and Elizabeth . . .” she paused, looking for an appropriate description, “it’s like she’s just another part of you.  And it’s not just you, I don’t even have anything to share with my own Maw.”  May Alice’s heart ached for the girl.  She immediately recalled when Acadia had felt something similar, a long time back, but that was different; Acadia felt rejected, solely by Arlene and her unreasonable equation of Acadia’s illness, and treatment, but Missy’s statement, that night, included May Alice, and she was not prepared for that.  Whatever she had done to make Missy feel unwelcome, she would find out, and she would not rest until the girl understood how much a part of everything she was.  It was not hard to find the words for that lovely little girl.

“Missy, I cannot think of one thing more untrue than that.  You are my ray of sunshine.  Every day I see you, I watch to see what you will teach me, because you have boundless compassion for others.  You always find the beauty in everything, and the goodness in everyone.  You have the most loving and hopeful soul of anyone I’ve ever known, and it breaks my heart to know I didn’t help you understand what an incredible gift that is.”  May Alice was smiling at her, but, there were tears in her own eyes, which then made Missy start again.  The girl came to May Alice, and held on to her more tightly than May Alice ever recalled before.  “I love you so much.  I can’t imagine that you don’t bring that same sweetness and light to your own Maw, and everyone, who knows you.”  Missy didn’t speak, she just held May Alice’s embrace, and enjoyed the rocking motion May Alice had instinctively begun.  The motion served to calm them both, and by the time Rennie descended the stairs and saw them, they were able to part.  “There’s one more thing, Missy.  What you see, and feel?  It will benefit so much more than our family.  That kind of gift can change the whole world.” 

Missy sniffled, and wiped her eyes with the part of her shirt that covered her wrist, “I love you Miss Ma, and I am thankful, even though I didn’t say it earlier.” 

“I’m happy to know that,” May Alice said.  The pair smiled at each other and kissed good night. 

Missy went with Rennie, happy to believe that she did had did have something to offer, and a little overwhelmed by May Alice’s revelation that not everyone possessed the same view of the world that Missy did.  She felt like a weight had been lifted, and she was truly happy again, for the first time since she’d moved in to the house.  As Rennie tucked her into bed, she whispered to him, “Paw, Miss Ma is very wise, and I think she really means it when she says she loves us.”

“I’m sorry if you ever felt she didn’t mean it, honey.”

When Rennie entered the master bedroom, he found May Alice already asleep on the bed.  He could tell she had barely made it from the wheelchair to the bed before collapsing, because the all the lights were on, and she was on top of the bed covers.  She’d managed to remove her shoes, and pants, but was still dressed in her sweater.  He had known, before their walk after dinner, that she was tired, but she said she wanted to go with them instead of napping.  He should have encouraged her to leave the dishes for him.  He would have to get better about not letting her overdo it, he decided.  He lifted her legs from the bed, and freed up the blanket, and sheet, to place over her body.  She stirred upon his touch, and opened her eyes, and instinctively reached her arms out for him.  He relaxed on top of her and nuzzled his nose into her neck and hair.  He felt the soft, warm skin, and could still make out the traces of her perfume.  He immediately wanted her, but he knew how tired she was, so, he refrained from kissing her, or letting his hands wander.  He positioned her more comfortably into the bed and kissed her lips quickly.  She was fast back to sleep, but he whispered that he loved her more than she could know, and then he left her, to ready himself for bed.  When he returned several minutes later, he slipped into the bed, ready to join May Alice in well-earned slumber.  Instead he laughed himself to sleep when she, with eyes still closed, and possibly still asleep, asked him, “Why was your daddy really covered in mud?”


	41. 41

**Chapter 41**

The Boudreaux’s were not the only family who enjoyed a memorable, and happy, Thanksgiving that year.  The Blades’ family also celebrated, the first time in four years, being back together in Chantelle’s childhood home.  Although they had been together the previous year, it had been in Louisiana, at May Alice’s.  This time, they were joined by Dr. Blades’ companion, Miss Maretta Carter.  Chantelle had a vague memory of Mrs. Carter and of her husband from years back; her parents used to bowl with the Carters.

As a doctor’s wife, Maretta had been a homemaker and had raised two kids with the late Dr. Carter.  Her children, like Chantelle, were grown and lived away from Chicago.  After her husband passed, she had moved into a more modest home, fifteen miles away from Pill Hill, where Dr. Blades still lived.  After Thanksgiving dinner, Mrs. Carter had insisted on helping Chantelle with the dishes, which allowed the two of them some moments together.  They talked about how she, and Dr. Blades had run into one another after so many years, and found they still had much in common.  She explained the value of such companionship at their age, and Chantelle listened politely.  Her father had told her the basics, but being there with them, she suspected he’d left out a lot.  She liked the woman, she found her personable and interesting, but she just couldn’t wrap her mind around her father dating, or more, and Mrs. Carter could tell.  She tried to ease Chantelle into the idea of her father having found someone to spend time with, by explaining the difference that Clarence had made in her life.  She explained that Dr. Carter loved her very much and did many things, solely to make her, and others, happy.  She felt that same happiness with Dr. Blades.  That made sense to Chantelle.  She found she could be more accepting of the idea of her father making someone else happy, because she’d seen the difference Rennie had made in May Alice’s life.  _Oh, she’s good,_ Chantelle thought to herself. 

The following day she, her father and Denita were out with the black Friday shopping crowds and Mrs. King had not joined them.  Denita enjoyed the time with just her Poppy and her mother, although, she found Mrs. King to be quite sweet.  Chantelle could tell, however, that her father was not quite himself.  He seemed lost, like he was looking for something, _or_ _someone_ , Chantelle figured out.  By Saturday, she had a good idea about what had her father so off kilter the day before.  Saturday morning, Mrs. Carter had invited the Blades’ to her condo for breakfast and sure enough, the couple announced to her, and Denita, that Dr. Blades had asked her to marry him, and she had agreed.  She also asked the girls to call her Maretta.  Chantelle was happy for them. They toasted with orange juice, and Denita commented that “everyone’s getting married,” referring, of course, to the pending nuptials of Rennie and May Alice.  Miss Maretta said Clarence had told her a little about May Alice, and how Chantelle had come to be in her employ.  What he’d not known was how close the women had become and that May Alice would be mortified to think of herself as merely Chantelle’s employer.

“And now she’s going to have a baby.  How is that going?”  Miss Maretta asked.

Chantelle felt odd discussing that, when the morning should be about her father and Mrs. Carter, but she indulged a bit, explaining about the lack of physical complications May Alice had experienced so far. 

“You can’t even tell she’s pregnant,” Denita added. 

“Well, she certainly was lucky to land you, it sounds like.” Maretta concluded.

“It has been a blessing to us both,” Chantelle felt compelled to add.

Feeling maybe she’d given short shrift to the women’s relationship, Mrs. Carter brought up the subject of May Alice again, later that evening after dinner.  Dr. Blades had taken Denita to their favorite ice cream shop for dessert, and the women knew some quality time, with just those two, would do them good.  The pair had remained close, continued writing to one another, and Chantelle realized how rare and wonderful that was.  She was happy they got time out together, and she found she was happy to tell Mrs. Carter about the friendship she, and May Alice, had cultivated.  It allowed her to see how far they’d come; not that she didn’t know it, but she’d never really internalized the friendship as the gift it had been, until she detailed it for Mrs. Carter that evening.  When she’d finished, Maretta was smiling, and told her, “You have found a sister, Chantelle.”

“Yeah, I guess I have,” she responded happily, a little overcome by emotion by accepting, for the first time, that she loved that crazy, pain in the ass.

Before they departed Chicago Sunday afternoon, Dr. Blades asked Chantelle about plans for Christmas.  He extended her an invitation to Mrs. Carter’s Christmas, with her kids, and him, which, Chantelle knew meant he would not be coming to Louisiana that year.  She explained that Rennie and May Alice had wanted to be married sometime around the holiday, and she couldn’t imagine not being there for it.  He understood, and they agreed to talk more about it soon. 

By the time Rennie returned Sunday evening, from the airport, with Chantelle and Denita, the kids were already prepared for bed, but May Alice had allowed the older girls to stay up to greet the pair.  The lateness of the hour kept everyone from catching up on the visit right then, and Chantelle assured the girls they would have plenty of time to hear everything in the morning.  She sent Denita up with her roommates to prepare for bed, and said she’d be right up.  She stayed to speak a little with May Alice, to see how thing went without her.  May Alice explained they did well, but expressed, how happy she was for Chantelle’s return.  She knew Chantelle needed to get Denita to bed, so, she told her they’d talk in the morning, and motioned her to go upstairs.  Just as Chantelle turned to leave, she stopped.  She turned back to May Alice and said, “We’ve come a long way together, you know?”  The statement seemed random to May Alice, but she knew exactly what Chantelle meant, even if she didn’t know why she’d felt the need to voice it right then. 

“Yeah, I do,” she smiled.  Chantelle proceeded upstairs and May Alice followed Rennie to their room.

In the light of the day Monday, after the kids had all been dressed, fed, and sent off to school, and Rennie had departed for whatever job he was doing that day, Chantelle and May Alice realized the state of the house.  It was a bit of a mess.  “Is this what it’s going to be like from now on, you think?” May Alice asked, truly not knowing what the homes of big families with small children was like.  Not the Chantelle did either. 

Chantelle raised her eyebrows and replied, “It’s possible; but do we go down fighting, or just throw in the towel?”

May Alice chuckled, and said, “I don’t know!”  They opted for the former while they shared coffee and caught up on their respective holidays.  They did not revisit Chantelle’s declaration from the night before, but, somewhat reminiscent of it, May Alice approached her about the upcoming wedding.

“I’ve been thinking about having the ceremony on New Year’s Day.” 

“Okay,” Chantelle said.

“I told you before that I didn’t want to do any of this without you and, as part of that, I was really hoping you’d agree to be my Maid of Honor; or whatever it’s called when you do something small like this.”

“I think it’s just a witness, but I’d be happy to,” she smiled at her friend. 

May Alice grinned at her, “Great, good.  Thank you.”

“So, speaking of weddings,” Chantelle went on to describe the news of her father and Mrs. Carter.  They talked about what Chantelle thought about Mrs. Carter, and following her description of the woman, and the relationship, both women felt hopeful, and happy for the pair.  During the conversation, they welcomed Elizabeth, who had only just awakened and was looking for Brutus, who’d been out exploring his vast back yard.  The rest of the day they spent talking about Christmas preparations and cleaning up the house.  It was a good day, May Alice reflected later.  Although she’d been non-stop busy the days and weekend Chantelle was gone, she’d missed her company.

May Alice approached Rennie that night about marrying on New Year’s Day.  She explained how she came to like the idea of celebrating each New Year with him.  He loved that sentiment as well, and agreed, even though it meant pushing the date back.  “It’s just a few days more,” May Alice laughed.

“But every day is an eternity,” he said dramatically, causing her to roll her eyes at him. 

With that final detail agreed to, the weeks between Thanksgiving, and the last day of school before holiday break for the kids, were spent preparing for Christmas, and some, for the wedding.  There was not much to do for the wedding part, May Alice had said all they had to do was secure was the officiant.  Chantelle reminded her she should think about a dress, which May Alice had, honestly, not considered.  A cake, and decorations, and what about a photographer, Chantelle added.  “Now I remember why I didn’t want a wedding,” May Alice quipped. 

In those weeks, the officiant was secured, and Chantelle had even talked May Alice into two trips to look at dresses.  Rennie had achieved a good balance between the slowdown in construction work in the winter, and the rise in tourism.  He was able to return to doing fishing charters which allowed him to be home earlier in the afternoons, so he, May Alice, and Chantelle, could shop for Christmas gifts for the kids before they returned home in the evening.

The Boudreaux house had sold the first week in December, and fortunately, just prior to that, Arlene had found a small house to rent.  The landlord, a recently widowed deacon from St. John’s, who’d known Arlene was in the market, explained his daughter had been living in the house until she moved away to finish her master’s degree in another state.  It was only two bedrooms, two baths, but with a large living space.  It would be too small for all the kids in several years to come, but for right then, it was fine and the price was right.  They would make it work.  The girls liked the small yellow house.  Missy said it looked sunny, and Arlene agreed that she’d felt happy when she looked at the house.  Jaxon liked that it had a big yard, even though it was nowhere near the water.  So, with one small deviation in Christmas and wedding planning, Rennie and the kids took a week to help Arlene move in. 

Deacon Ryan, a friendly, handsome fellow, younger than Rennie would have pictured for a widower, also helped them out with the moving of furniture, and had even donated a few pieces his daughter did not need. Rennie learned the deacon’s wife had battled ovarian cancer for several years but succumbed the year before at the age of 56.  He felt for the man, but Deacon Ryan said it had been a blessing that she did not suffer any longer than necessary.  He also complimented Rennie on the amicable relationship he and Arlene had.  Rennie laughed to himself wondering if he knew how very recent it was that the relationship had become amicable.  He thanked the man, and was grateful that, if the deacon harbored any ill will at Rennie for divorcing his wife, he didn’t show it.

The weekend following the release of the kids from school, for the winter break, the girls had asked to stay the weekend with Arlene.  They were eager to help decorate the bedroom that would be theirs when they were with her.  Jaxon would be relegated to sleeping on a makeshift bed in the living room whenever he stayed over, so, he had zero interest in decorating with the girls that first weekend.  Rennie agreed the girls could stay, and Jaxon and Elizabeth remained with him and May Alice.  It was a pivotal point for the girls and Arlene.  It marked the first of their desire to spend every other weekend with their mother.  Up to then, Arlene rarely had asked for additional time with them; she didn’t even ask to spend time over the Thanksgiving holiday, although, they did still go to the library with her that Saturday.  Ever since the kids moved in to May Alice’s, they’d stopped spending afternoons with Arlene, so, Rennie knew it would not be long before they would need to spend time with her on the weekends.  He was glad that they’d been the ones to suggest it.  He would work on Elizabeth and Jaxon in the weeks to come, encouraging them to follow suit.  They had no formal schedule for the break, or holiday, so, Rennie agreed that any time the kids asked to be with Arlene, he would consider it.  However, he insisted they be home Christmas day and, of course, New Year’s Day.  Arlene still had her job as the assistant for the Mother Superior but she had given up the dormitory responsibilities.  But, she too, agreed, any time she could accommodate the kids, she was happy to.  As for the kids, they loved being at May Alice’s, and they enjoyed the routine of coming home there after school and, like Rennie, they’d become less protective of their weekends there since they got to live there, full time.  It made spending time with Arlene less an obligation and that was good for everyone.  The exceptions remained, Elizabeth, and to some extent, Jaxon.  He still loved being with his father and the weekend, for him, was still the time he could be with Rennie the longest.  But even he did his best to have fun with the girls when they were with Arlene, and he rarely declined to go.  Only Elizabeth refused to do anything more than the library, or an occasional trip with them for ice cream, or to play at the park. 

The weekend before Christmas the whole crew set out, Saturday morning, to pick out a tree for the house.  By noon, they’d visited three lots before they found one they could all agree on.  They had it home, trimmed, and a space prepared for it, by dinner time.  The following day they spent the whole day making, or selecting, decorations and placing them on the tree.  It was easily the happiest time Rennie could recall, and May Alice had a perpetual smile on her face as she watched her house teeming with activity, and felt the life inside her growing.  She was still hardly showing, which encouraged her when, as her maid of honor/witness, Chantelle insisted she choose a wedding dress that week.  May Alice had declared, long before stepping foot into any shop, that a “wedding dress” was out.  This would be a nice dress that one could be married in, but, would not be a wedding dress.  No frilly, white, cupcake dress would be on her menu.  She said she felt ridiculous enough being her age, pregnant, and on her second marriage; adding a big dress to the mix was more than her good manners would allow. 

With the restrictions in place, and the fact she would be in a wheelchair also, she had found three dresses she found acceptable, but would not commit to.  None would need alteration since they were, in fact, not wedding dresses.  Chantelle told her, regardless, she would pick one by Wednesday or Chantelle would choose one for her.  “Maybe you should,” May Alice said, whether serious, or just calling Chantelle’s bluff, Chantelle was not biting.

“I might,” she challenged.

Rennie also had a decision to make.  He’d found a wedding ring he wanted to purchase for May Alice but she was so insistent about only wanting his mother’s ring, the one he’d given to her when he asked her to marry him.  It was a beautiful ring, but it was a simple engagement ring, he reasoned.  _With barely even a diamond,_ he’d thought, _hardly worthy of being a wedding ring_.  He’d agonized over the decision for weeks and, finally, he felt he needed advice.  He asked Chantelle to meet him Monday morning, while May Alice was doing her swim therapy session.  She met up with him, and Elizabeth, who was still groggy over being up, and dressed so early.  The jewelry shop, which didn’t open until 10:00 a.m., was unlocked.  Once inside, she realized Rennie had arranged with the owner to open the store for them so he and Chantelle could meet, undetected.  Chantelle understood his dilemma, and could see his apprehension about purchasing another ring.  May Alice could be so stubborn; it would be just like her to refuse to wear another ring, rendering Rennie’s choice nothing more than a rock.  Still, she realized Rennie’s commitment to purchase the “real” wedding band he was showing her, which was a marquis-cut diamond, easily two karats, with a companion band of smaller, channel-set diamonds.  It was stunning; and so not, what May Alice would want.  Chantelle had to be diplomatic.

“It’s really beautiful, Rennie.  And I think, a year ago, May Alice would’ve happily accepted this ring.  But, you know, she’s not that same person anymore.  She won’t even buy a wedding dress, for heaven’s sake.”  Rennie looked dejected, but she was not finished, “There’s bound to be something in between that you could consider for her?”  She looked at the shop owner then, pleading for his help.

The shop owner had known Rennie was struggling with the purchase.  He had also seen the ring Rennie presented to May Alice when they got engaged, he had cleaned for Rennie, in preparation for the proposal.  He, too, had been thinking about an alternative for Rennie, whom he’d known for years.  He didn’t know May Alice, but he’d seen the change in Rennie since he’d been with her, and he thought, indeed, she must be something.  Having heard Chantelle’s brief inference about the woman, he knew he’d been on the right track about an alternative.  He suggested Rennie give him the day to prepare a few things he thought might be acceptable, and they agreed to the same clandestine type of meeting on Wednesday morning. 

Later that morning, on the drive to the dress shop, following the trip to Y, Chantelle asked May Alice if she’d planned to get Rennie a wedding band.  “I have one,” she answered, nonchalantly.

“You do? How?”

“It was the craziest thing,” she said, “When I was clearing out drawers in the study, just before the remodel, I found a gold band in a small velvet box.  I remembered that ring from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite remember if it was my Mother’s father’s ring, or one of my father’s own.  I didn’t think much about it at the time; I just put it away for safekeeping.  Then, when Rennie gave me his mother’s ring, I recalled that the one I’d found, and remembered it may have had an inscription in it.  Not that it mattered, just that I was still trying to decipher whose ring it had been.  As soon as I had time, I looked at the ring again, and there really was an inscription.  This one says ‘A father’s love is infinite. Sept 23, 1952’.” 

Chantelle looked over at May Alice, “Your birthday.”

“My birthday.  Clearly it was one of my daddy’s rings.  I think Rennie will appreciate the sentiment, don’t you?”

“Yeah, he will,” Chantelle knew.  Armed with that additional bit of information, Chantelle knew she couldn’t let Rennie give May Alice another ring.  She felt a little bad for the patient jewelry shop owner.  Their discussion turned from the ring to the dress.  May Alice begged Chantelle to shop the following day, instead, but Chantelle would not relent.  “Rennie agreed to take the morning off so we could do this.  We only have two hours, maybe you’ll do better with a deadline,” she said with mostly mock annoyance.

“Oh, all right.”

When Rennie returned to the house from the jewelry store, he made breakfast for Elizabeth, and tried to explain the importance of keeping their little secret about the trip.  She said she didn’t think she’d ever had a secret to keep, and assured him she would not tell.  He had to hope she wouldn’t; it was a lot to ask of a four-year-old.

They’d spent forty-five minutes in the dress shop, and May Alice was trying on the third, of the three dresses she’d picked previously.  Finally, she summoned Chantelle into the room.  “Will you help me stand?” She asked, “I want to see it like it should be.”  They were sad words, but May Alice did not sound sad when she said them.  Chantelle helped her up, then turned the chair so May Alice could hold the handles to steady herself.

“You can’t tell with the chair there.  I’ll hold you up,” Chantelle said, moving behind May Alice and steadying her at the waist with one arm around it, while she moved the wheelchair away from the front of her.  When she stood back upright, behind May Alice, and saw her in the mirror, in the dress, she was speechless.  May Alice was busily checking out the look, but when she saw Chantelle’s face, it had an expression she couldn’t identify; she immediately feared the worst.

“Oh. You don’t like it,” May Alice said sheepishly.  Chantelle could see May Alice loved the dress and was terrified to think Chantelle did not.  She also knew how important her opinion was to May Alice’s decision and she was thrilled she’d not have to lie to her about her choice.

“May Alice,” Chantelle finally said, “It’s beautiful.  You’re beautiful!” 

May Alice smiled and turned her gaze back to the mirror.  “You don’t think it’s . . . you know, too much?”

“Too much what?  It’s perfect.  Look at you. You’re buying this dress.” Twenty minutes later, they were departing the store. 

“I’m impressed.  I really didn’t think you’d decide today.” Chantelle confessed.

“Let’s hope it still fits by New Year’s.  I’ve put on seven pounds since Thanksgiving.”

“Wow, seven whole pounds, huh?” Chantelle joked, but in truth, it was a very good sign.  May Alice had not been gaining weight at the rate her doctor had expected, but, because she had Chantelle for back up, he knew she was eating all the right things.  He refrained from worrying much, but continued to keep a close eye on her.  On her last visit, he’d recommended she stop one of her three days of swim therapy but Chantelle had not had much success in slowing her down.

When they arrived home, May Alice carried the dress in, hidden in an opaque garment bag, and placed it in the back of her closet where it would remain until New Year’s Day.  However, inside the bag was a second, clear one, with another dress in it.  She emerged from the room with the second garment bag. 

She found Chantelle in the kitchen with Rennie, preparing lunch for them.  Rennie turned to greet her, and Elizabeth immediately noticed the bag laying across May Alice’s lap.  “Is that your dress, Mama?” she asked eagerly.  Chantelle whipped around, ready to chastise her for showing the dress to Rennie before the big day when she heard May Alice answer.

“No, honey.  This is a little something for Miss Chantelle.” 

Chantelle approached her questioningly.  May Alice lifted the bag and handed it to her.  Chantelle took it and immediately recognized the dress inside.  “I hope it’s the right one; I only saw you looking it briefly, and that was a few weeks ago, but Kellie was pretty sure it was the same one too.”  Chantelle was again, speechless.  The dress in the bag was exactly the one she’d admired in the store previously.  She would have even gone back for it herself, but she’d not had time, and she didn’t find it again that morning when she’d looked for it. 

“How did . . .,” she started to ask, “When . . . how did . . . why?” she finally settled on.

“You’re my Maid of Honor; I wanted to surprise you,” May Alice said happily; she could tell from the look on Chantelle’s face it was the right dress.

“Mama has the best surprises!” Elizabeth exclaimed.  “Try it on, Miss Chantelle!”

“I just think, I will,” she said to the girl.  She looked at May Alice and said, “You didn’t have to do this, but it’s very sweet.  Thank you.”

That Monday was not the only day of surprises that week.  On Wednesday morning, just like they had on Monday, Chantelle snuck out of therapy, and Rennie rousted Elizabeth out of bed early, to meet at the jewelry store.  Chantelle was still convinced she’d have to try to let Rennie down easy when she told him May Alice would not want a different ring.  She’d practiced different ways of approaching him, but ultimately, decided she’d have to wing it when the time came; and now the time was coming.

Mr. Weatherby, once again, welcomed them in and, this time, he had a donut ready for Elizabeth.  He seemed quite excited about their visit, which made Chantelle feel even worse about what she was going to have to tell them.  Mr. Weatherby motioned them over to the counter where he’d laid out a large sketch pad.  “I have a design here that I think might be just the thing.”

Rennie and Chantelle looked questioningly at one another, both clearly intrigued by this alternative.  Mr. Weatherby had drawn, from memory, a fairly accurate depiction of May Alice’s engagement ring.  Then, bordered on either side of the dainty band, he’d sketched two matching, equally dainty bands, one for each side of the ring.  On each of the bordering bands, he’d added one small square diamond, that when combined with the original, would sit, one to the top and one to the bottom corner of the original diamond setting.  The combined effect was a slightly wider band of gold with the center diamond now highlighted by additional accenting diamonds.  Rennie looked at Chantelle who was smiling widely.  “You think she would like that?” he asked needlessly. 

“It’s really lovely, Mr. Weatherby,” she said. 

“You can make this?” Rennie asked, somewhat amazed at the perfection of the effect, and fearful the real thing couldn’t possibly be as remarkable.

“I believe I can, but I’d need time, and to see the ring again, and, I don’t know that I can do it in time for the wedding,” he said sadly.  Even without the holiday, he’d only have seven days to produce what normally would take weeks to create. 

Rennie looked to Chantelle, “Maybe I should find something else?”

 _Time to wing it_ , Chantelle thought. “Rennie, May Alice won’t want something else.  She might not want that either,” she pointed to the sketch, “but I think she will understand that you wanted her ring to be something more special, tailored, just for her, and that,” she again pointed to the sketch, “is your best bet.”  Rennie finally understood; indeed, he had wanted May Alice to have his mother’s ring or he’d not have given it to her.  Chantelle was right, what he’d wanted wasn’t something bigger or flashier, just something more personal.

“Mr. Weatherby, would you make these bands for my wife?” He asked with a grin.

“I’d be my pleasure.”

Chantelle took Elizabeth out to the truck and buckled her in while Rennie worked out the details.  She couldn’t imagine how they would get the ring from May Alice, without letting her know why they wanted it.  Plus, they’d need, at least, that ring for the wedding, so, getting it back was just as imperative.  She suddenly thought she was the worst advisor Rennie could have asked for. 

In a little pre-Christmas miracle, that very evening, May Alice told Rennie she had to take off the ring, and might not be able to wear it again until after the baby.  Apparently, the little weight she’d already gained was enough to render the ring snug on her finger.  Rennie assured her they could have the ring resized in time for the wedding.  Even if, after the baby, the ring was too large, she said, she didn’t want to go without it for those months, so, she happily accepted to relinquish the ring to him to be resized.


	42. 42

**Chapter 42 (M rate)**

Christmas arrived at the Culhane home with all the excitement one expects of the holiday filled with young children.  As known, Dr. Blades had opted to stay in Chicago and celebrate with his fiancée’s family, but, May Alice and Rennie had invited the couple to come for the New Year’s wedding ceremony, and the pair had agreed, so, Chantelle and Denita were not as disappointed by the absence on Christmas.

Arlene spent several hours, Christmas Eve, with all of her children, even Jaxon and Elizabeth, happily in attendance in her new home.  Denita and Chantelle had attended a service at their church that evening, leaving May Alice and Rennie to enjoy their own intimate evening making love, bathed in the lights of their Christmas tree.  Rennie was amazed at the willingness of May Alice to have sex during her pregnancy.  They’d enjoyed an increase in their activity since living together, of course, but the intensity in which she participated now, often left him spent, and unable to recover as quickly as he’d have liked.  It was a disappointment he could live with.  That night, in the glow of the tree’s lights, was no exception.  He cursed having to stop when the time neared to pick up the kids, but they were eager to get them home, and in bed, so they could lay out the gifts they’d so carefully purchased for them in the weeks since Thanksgiving.

Rennie left to retrieve the kids from Arlene’s house, and May Alice released Brutus from his crate and took him outside for a bit.  She felt her child fluttering in her abdomen.  She often did after she and Rennie made love.  She felt a little bad, thinking their activity was keeping the child awake, but the act of making love to him, with their child in between them, increased her desire for him tenfold.  She was nearly insatiable, and she still had four months of growing to do.  She credited her memory and imagination for filling in where she could no longer feel, and thanked the other parts of her body, and their increased sensation and participation, as well.  They all worked together in perfect time with Rennie’s body to bring her to her own satisfying orgasms.

Denita and Chantelle arrived home from church only minutes before Rennie and the rest of the kids, and everyone was too excited for bed right then.  The older girls traded notes with Denita on their stay with Arlene, and she told them of the pageantry of the service she and Chantelle had attended.  Elizabeth was sleepy from her long afternoon, but like her siblings she was too keyed up to sleep.  She climbed into May Alice’s lap with her bunny and listened patiently to the others, and watched them play with the toys Arlene had given them.  After several minutes in her lap, movement occurred, once again, in May Alice’s belly; that time, underneath Elizabeth’s hand which had been resting there.  May Alice looked down at the girl and saw her eyes open wide.  She looked up at May Alice and asked, “What was that?”

May Alice laughed and said, “That’s the baby.”  The exchange drew everyone’s attention and immediately each of the girls wanted to feel the movement.  Elizabeth climbed down to allow the girls in closer.  Each took turns placing their hand on the slightly raised area of May Alice’s stomach.  The infant accommodated, and provided small movements under the girls’ touch.  Jaxon, with some prodding from Acadia tried as well, but when he felt the ripple, he decided it rather freaked him out. 

He drew back his hand and said, “Ugh, creepy”, which drew laughs from everyone.  He retreated to sit next to Rennie and crossed his arms, hiding his hands in his armpits.

“Boy guts a fish like it’s nuthin’, but gets grossed out by his own baby brother or sissy, go figure,” Acadia couldn’t help but comment with a little eye roll. 

They had passed a quick hour visiting, and Rennie could tell May Alice was waning.  He stood from the couch and declared it bedtime for everyone.  By that time, he was actually met with few protestations.   As the kids collected their belongings, he turned to May Alice.  “You too, c’mon.”  She looked at him, surprised.  “Santa doesn’t need our help,” he said with a wink.  She was disappointed to not help set up the toys but she was exhausted and wanted to be ready for the morning.  She smiled at him and watched as the kids headed up the stairs after saying good night to her and Chantelle.  Rennie scooped up Elizabeth and carried her up behind the others with Brutus trailing behind.

May Alice turned to Chantelle and said she was glad she and Denita had nice time, and then she finished with a simple, “Merry Christmas, Chantelle.”

“Merry Christmas, May Alice.”

May Alice wheeled into her room to prepare for bed and Chantelle picked up the abandoned toys, making room for the next batch she’d be helping Rennie place in a few minutes.  Within the hour, the entire household was dark and everyone but Rennie was asleep.

He lay next to May Alice, listening to her softly breathing and reflecting on the incredible events that graced his life in one short year.  He had never thought he was unhappy in his life, but laying there that night, he thought himself a fool for thinking he may have continued on with his life with Arlene had Acadia never fallen ill.  How odd he found it, that two, near terrible tragedies, ultimately provided the confluence that shook him from his complacency, and brought him to this bliss.  He fell asleep with both a smile on his face, and tears in his eyes. 

Hours later, he awoke to the happy shrieks of young kids and Christmas morning.  Brutus had bounded on to the bed, providing the last bit of prodding needed to get him and May Alice up.  He rolled over to May Alice and kissed her good morning, causing the protective Brutus to work his way between them.  They laughed and kissed anyway, and finally the rest of the kids ran in, all speaking at once about what Santa had left for them.  Rennie shooed them out, promising they were right behind.  He helped May Alice into her robe and wheelchair and they met up with the rest of the kids and Chantelle and watched as the kids happily investigated their loot. 

Acadia had gotten a professional drawing easel for her room, complete with new sketch pads and tubes of “real artist paints” and charcoal pencils.  A handcrafted bookshelf stood beside the Christmas tree, with a hand-made sign that had Missy and Sabine’s name on it.  Remarkably, it matched the wood of the bunk beds their father had made for them earlier in the fall.  Each shelf had three classic books for a total of twelve new books.  Jaxon was showing May Alice a new tackle box, packed with fishing gear.  Elizabeth was happily tapping away on a purple dinosaur piano, aptly named the **Pianosaurus, with Brutus at her feet gnawing on a new chew toy.  D** enita was elated over her very first Cabbage Patch Preemie.  “Miss May Alice, we can learn to change diapers together!” She’d offered excitedly making May Alice laugh.

After about a half hour watching the kids play and exchange notes, May Alice and Chantelle made their way into the kitchen to start breakfast for everyone.  Rennie joined them soon after, and as he set the table, the other kids all pitched in, as it was usually their combined chore.  The families ate and enjoyed the excitement of the morning.  Finally, the kids could take no more and begged to clear the table so they could get to the presents still wrapped and under the tree.

Once everyone was situated in a spot in the living room, Rennie began sorting through the pile of wrapped packages, handing each to their assigned owner.  The kids all ripped eagerly into the colorful bags and boxes and enjoyed a mix of new clothes, toys, candy, books or games.  Part of the way through the melee, Chantelle asked Rennie if he could help her with something upstairs.  They returned with six large boxes, all but one, wrapped identically.  The kids all stopped and watched as she handed the one red package to Jaxon and she and Rennie handed out the remaining five gold wrapped boxes to each of the girls.  They simultaneously ripped them open.  The girls all shared _oohs_ and _aahs_ over matching green velveteen dresses, all adorned with a different colored satin sash.  They looked to Chantelle for an explanation as these were definitely not school clothes.

“They’re for the wedding, of course!” Acadia exclaimed, holding hers up to her body.  May Alice could see Elizabeth struggling with her box and she motioned the girl over to her.  She helped her open the box, amid tears that were forming in her eyes over Chantelle’s incredible gesture.

“Are you sad, Mama?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, honey, these are happy tears.  Very happy tears,” she said wiping them away and holding up the smaller version of Acadia’s dress for Elizabeth.  Elizabeth took the dress and lined up with the other girls, who were holding theirs up like Acadia had just done.

“Chantelle, they’re just beautiful,” May Alice managed as Rennie handed her his handkerchief.

“Well, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.  It’s a special day, and that warrants special dresses,” she said facing the girls.

Jaxon was trying to figure out the three pieces of clothing in his box.  He pulled out pants, a jacket, like no jacket he’d ever owned, and a dress shirt.  “What the heck is this thing?” he said holding up a clip on tie.  Rennie made his way over the piles of paper and discarded boxes and helped him with the garments. 

“This is a tie, for your suit.  Like the one I will be wearing for the ceremony.  You’re gonna play an important part, y’know? Gotta look like you know what you’re doin,’” he said, hoping to make the boy feel less like the odd man out.

“How did you know what sizes to get?” May Alice asked, mystified over both her having found the time to pull it all together, and keep it a secret.

“I took pieces of clothing from each of them and took them to Kellie.  From there, we guessed.  Rennie was in charge of Jaxon’s though.”   May Alice met Rennie’s gaze and smiled at him.  His eyes, she noted, seemed an even brighter amber than she’d ever recalled them being.  She shook her head at him silently congratulating him on keeping that big secret. 

The girls, collectively ran to Chantelle and hugged her, all simultaneously thanking her before zooming up the stairs to try their dresses on.  Rennie motioned Jaxon to follow, and to his surprise, he did.  Rennie turned to Chantelle and thanked her, commenting on how excited the girls were.

“They’ve never had anything that beautiful before,” he said to her sincerely. 

She smiled at him and said “Think Jaxon will ever forgive me?”  Rennie laughed and said he really didn’t know.

After several minutes, all the girls clamored back down the stairs with their dresses on.  Only Missy’s appeared too large, but the others fit well, and the girls were all enamored with the different colored sashes.  May Alice and Chantelle assured Missy they would have time to have hers altered in time for the wedding.  Jaxon finally came down the stairs as well, with his suit and jacket on, but no tie.  The adults waited for the teasing to kick in, but the girls fell silent.  He genuinely looked handsome in the suit, and they suddenly realized how much less he looked like a “baby” brother.

“Son, you look real handsome,” Rennie said plainly.  He hoped addressing him as _son_ in that moment, would convey how proud he was of the boy.

“You certainly do, Jaxon,” May Alice added, which made the boy smile.  “I am so honored you will be standing with your Papa at our wedding.”  Jaxon would be serving as Rennie’s best man, even though in a civil ceremony, like the Maid of Honor, he was basically just a witness.  However, in Jaxon’s case, he would additionally be entrusted with holding the ring for Rennie, like any best man would be.

The girls were ordered back upstairs to change and instructed to hang their dresses carefully so any wrinkles could relax before the big day.  When they returned, May Alice and Chantelle were busy picking up the expended wrappings and placing them into a trash bag. 

“Pa!” Acadia yelled, with the rest of the girls trailing down the stairs behind her, “didn’t you forget something?”

“Did I?” Rennie said with contrived surprise, “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Where is my head?” he said, his eyes lighting up as brightly as the girls’.  The kids had all forgotten, in the midst of their present opening excitement, that Rennie had not presented May Alice with her gift.  They all gathered around him smiling, eager for him to proceed. 

“But she’s not dressed,” Rennie said motioning to May Alice. 

“So, what?” Acadia said, “It’s Christmas, no one’s gonna see us.”

“What are you all up to?” May Alice asked with suspicion.

“Pa has something for you!” Sabine divulged. 

“Grab her jacket,” Rennie said to the girls and he turned to May Alice and said, “We’re going outside.”

“Oh no, I don’t like the sound of this,” she said.  That made Chantelle laugh.  She recalled a vivid memory from her first days working with May Alice.  Although it was a year and a half earlier, she remembered May Alice uttering the exact words, in exactly the same tone, the very first day she’d ever made May Alice leave the house. 

The girls returned with her coat, which she put on over her robe as the kids eagerly took hold of her wheelchair and followed out the front door behind Rennie.  They made their way around to the side of the house and down to the big new garage.  Rennie rolled up the metal door and led them back to the area where he’d built the bunk beds.  In between his table saw and his workbench was something covered with a blue plastic tarp.  “I’m sorry about the wrapping,” he said to May Alice.

He pulled the tarp away and revealed a beautiful crib.  May Alice’s eyes drank it in; it was made of honey colored wood and the head and footboard each had large white clouds painted on them.  Inside the clouds were delicate flowers, little ducks, and birds, all hand painted in soft pastels.  She noticed its height, lower than traditional cribs, to accommodate her chair, she knew.  Rennie had made it, and the kids had painted it, and their having done it together quelled any doubt she may have had about how the new child would be accepted into their family.  It was the single most generous thing anyone had ever done for her and she was, thoroughly, overwhelmed.  Her breath hitched in her throat and she smiled through the tears that immediately fell upon seeing it. 

“Happy tears?” Elizabeth asked, which broke the tension, and they all chuckled. 

May Alice couldn’t answer but they all knew.  Soon enough, she regained her composure and wheeled over to the crib, but she did not speak.  She reached out to feel the wood and to see the paintings up close.  Tears were still falling, and Rennie had again, accommodated her with his handkerchief.  After a few moments, she turned to him and shook her head, searching for the right words.  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  Thank you, all of you.”  She held her arms open signaling the kids to come to her, which they readily did.  They were delighted to know they’d finally succeeded in presenting Miss Ma with a gift worthy of the many she’d given to them.  Soon they all departed the garage, leaving the crib inside, which weighed heavily on May Alice’s heart. 

The rest of the day was spent playing, eating, cleaning up and napping.  Eventually, everyone had gotten dressed, but no one left the house again, except to let Brutus out, everybody seemed perfectly content to spend the day and night together.  Upon finally retiring for the evening, as Rennie lay next to May Alice in their bed, she asked him when they could bring the crib inside.  He turned to look at her, puzzled by the question, since she was still far from due.  He explained he still had a few finishing touches for it, but as he spoke, he could see something in her eyes that told him instinctively she equated something more meaningful with it than just wood and paint.  “I’ll bring it in tomorrow,” he conceded.  She smiled and pulled him to her.  She shared a deep kiss with him, and soon after, she was showing him in other ways what the day had meant to her.


	43. 43

**Chapter 43**

Sunday morning arrived a bit too early for May Alice’s preference, but Rennie had always been an early riser.  He suggested she stay in bed and sleep more, and he didn’t have to suggest it twice.  She fell immediately back to sleep, and after he’d finished in the bathroom, he returned to bed and placed a small kiss on her head before he headed out to start breakfast for everyone.  It was just a little after 7:00 a.m., and as he cracked the first egg, the phone rang.  He ran to pick it up, before it woke anyone.  On the other end was a flustered Arlene, who’d awoken to a water leak in the master bathroom of her new home.  She apologized for calling so early but she had no idea how to address the problem.  The landlord was away visiting his daughter, and finding a plumber on Christmas weekend, she thought, would be nearly impossible.  Rennie knew she was in a bind, and didn’t hesitate to confirm she did the right thing by calling him.  He explained where the water could be shut off until he could arrive and assess the damage.

As he was hanging up, Chantelle had arrived downstairs with Brutus in tow.  All three headed to the door to let the dog out while Rennie explained the phone call.  Chantelle understood, and told him she’d cover breakfast and encouraged him to go.  She wondered how May Alice would react to that situation.  Surely, it would not be the last time he’d be called upon to help do something for his ex-wife.  

Rennie arrived by 7:20 and shut off the water at the main.  He then showed her where the key was, and how to use it, should she ever need to again in the future.  He didn’t mind helping her out, he would have done the same for anyone who’d asked, but he also didn’t want her to rely solely on him, like she’d been able to when they were married.  He also knew that, in general, she was returning to the more independent person he’d once known, and he liked that, so, was happy to foster it along.  He took a moment to observe the interior of the house.  He’d not really been in it since she, and the kids, had gotten it all put together.  He’d picked up the kids, multiple times, but they were always in a rush to get home, so, he’d not really paid attention.  Now, he saw the small, decorated Christmas tree in the living room, reminiscent of those they’d had in years past.  She had pretty pinks and mauve colors throughout the living room, and a large roomy couch with a floral print, so unlike the drab brown couch they’d had for years.  She explained it had a hide-a-bed, that Jaxon thought was pretty neat.  The house was nice, and he was happy to see evidence of the kids having been there.  She showed him to master bathroom.  She explained she’d gone to shower that morning and found the carpet soaked.  She wondered if the toilet had overflown, but after flushing it, it appeared fine, so, she assumed it had to be the shower.  He agreed, and knew for damage like this, the break was behind the wall.  It was not going to be a fast fix.

May Alice woke again, late on, with movement in her abdomen, and a tiny warm hand on the same area.  She opened her eyes to see Elizabeth standing next to her, with her hand patting May Alice’s tummy.  “Good morning baby.  Good morning, Mama,” she whispered.

“Good morning to you, sweet girl.  Come up here.”  Elizabeth climbed in, while May Alice grabbed the bar over the bed to move herself over, and make room for the girl.  Once settled, May Alice wrapped her in a snug embrace and placed a small kiss on her head.  “Where’s Brutus?” May Alice asked, surprised to not see him following the girl.

“Jaxon took him to the water.”

“With Papa?”  May Alice asked.

“No, Pa’s gone to Maw’s.”  May Alice froze with those words.  She was equally worried about Jaxon being near the water without Rennie, as she was curious about why he was at Arlene’s.  Elizabeth picked up on the shift in May Alice’s embrace.  “Are you okay, Mama?”

“Oh, yes, Honey, I’m . . . I just didn’t realize it’s so late.  We should check on Jaxon,” she said, releasing her embrace with Elizabeth and moving to get off the bed.

“He knows not to go alone.” Elizabeth offered.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right, but let’s just be sure, okay?”  Her worry had overtaken her curiosity about Rennie, for the moment.  Elizabeth watched May Alice struggle with lifting herself with the bar and swinging her legs to the side of the bed where she would, then, maneuver into the chair.  She was mesmerized, having never really watched how May Alice got in and out of the chair every day.  Even when they napped, usually Elizabeth was in the bed asleep before May Alice could maneuver to join her.  She continued to watch as May Alice wrapped herself in her robe before departing the room.

The two made their way to the kitchen and May Alice inquired about Jaxon.  Chantelle saw the, not-quite-yet-frantic, look on May Alice’s face with the question. 

“He knows not to go alone,” she confirmed, with a tone that said _do you think I’m an idiot?_   “Acadia is with him.”

May Alice immediately felt ridiculous. “I just didn’t know it was so late, and that everyone was already up.”  She looked around and noticed the other girls, all playing at the table in their pajamas.  They told her about Arlene’s water leak and Rennie’s trip to help out.  Chantelle confirmed he’d been gone a couple of hours already. 

“I saved you some breakfast,” Chantelle said, “You must’ve had a late night,” she said with a raised eyebrow.  She enjoyed needling May Alice about Rennie because she often remembered back to their earliest days when May Alice was so convinced she’d never have sex she could enjoy.  Chantelle was happy to remind her how wrong she had been.

Rennie decided, early on, he could not fix the plumbing in the shower that day.  He told Arlene she should go on to Church, and he would work on drying out the carpet, and in her absence, he would make some calls to find help with a solution.  He had met a man, some weeks before, a plumber, who had just moved to Lafayette, and was looking for business.  Rennie had taken his card as a courtesy, but he’d normally have called Wilson Gates for such help.  However, not wanting to ruin Wilson’s Christmas, Rennie thought this a good test to see how much the new guy really wanted business.  Once he had soaked through all of the available towels Arlene had, he found the business card for Charles Milton and gave the number a call.  To his surprise, the man answered.  Rennie explained who he was and, Charlie, as he instructed Rennie to call him, said he, indeed, recalled having met Rennie, and thanked him for keeping his card.  Rennie explained his suspicion about the water leak, and his lack of desire to do the job himself.  Charlie seemed eager to help, and told Rennie he could meet him within the hour, which he did.

Charlie Milton offered Rennie a fair price for removing the tiles in the shower, fixing the leak, and re-tiling.  He’d also had brought along a wet-shop vacuum that they used to suck up the water from the carpet, and two large fans to help dry it.  As they worked, Rennie found Charlie an amiable fellow, about the same age as him, and with similar interests.  Charlie had been living in Houma, when his father had passed the previous year, leaving his elderly mother alone in Lafayette.  Charlie, an only child, and long-divorced, had moved back to help care for her after she’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  When Arlene returned to the house, Rennie introduced her to Charlie, and explained he would be doing the job.  Arleen looked at Rennie questioningly.  She was certain it was a job he could do, and she was surprised to learn he was not going to.

“I can’t do this job, because May Alice and I are getting married Friday.  I’ll be busy getting things ready.”

Charlie, not knowing the situation, at all, said jovially, “You’re gettin’ married?  Well, congratulations, man!  That’s awesome!”  He slapped Rennie on the shoulder.  Rennie couldn’t help but smile, which didn’t do much for Arlene’s attitude over either the marriage, or the shower.

“Oh,” she said absently, recalling then, that he had said they’d be marrying in December, which was nearly over.  “Yes, well, that is understandable, then, of course,” she said, trying not to be saddened by the news, by the finality it signaled to the end of her relationship with Rennie.  She quickly turned away, perhaps, to hide her discomfort.  She asked Charlie, “Mr. Milton, how long do you think this will take to fix?”

The two began their own conversation about the repairs and Rennie excused himself to return for the wet towels he’d left in the floor of the leaky shower.  As he passed through the bedroom, he again noticed the light and feminine accents of the room’s décor, so radically different from that of the spartan bedroom they’d shared for ten years.  He knew, when they were first married, they had next to no money, but even then, Arlene had an interest in making their house inviting and comfortable.  Where and when that had changed, he couldn’t even remember; but he was happy to see that she was, again, taking an interest in making life a little prettier for herself, and for the kids. 

When he returned to the living room with the towels, he noticed Arlene handing a glass of tea to Charlie.  She offered one to Rennie but he declined saying he really needed to get home.  He took the towels out back and hung them to dry on her clothesline and then returned to offer to help Charlie with the shop-vac.  Charlie assured him he could load it on his own and that Rennie could be on his way.  He explained how he was grateful for the work consideration, and didn’t wish to keep him any longer than necessary, “Especially with a fiancé waitin’ on ya,” he added. 

As he made his way out the door, Arlene followed him into the yard and thanked him for coming.  She asked if the wedding plans would mean she couldn’t see the kids that week.  “It’s just a small ceremony, at the house.  The kids will be there, but until then, they have lots of time; you’re welcome to have them some,” he said.

“Okay,” she said quietly, “thanks, I’ll be in touch.”  Rennie got into his truck and drove home, feeling none of the finality Arlene did; probably because he’d experienced it long before.

When she returned to her house, Charlie was back in the bathroom packing up the shop-vac.  She thanked him for coming on a holiday weekend, and he explained why he was so available.  Upon hearing of his situation with his mother and the recent loss of his father, she was glad that he’d been fortunate enough to meet Rennie.  “My hus -my ex-husband is a good man, Mr. Milton.  He knows a lot of folks around here.”

Picking up on her correction, Charlie immediately recalled his hearty congratulations to Rennie earlier regarding his marriage.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Arlene, I didn’t realize,” he started to apologize, but noticed Arlene shaking her head and starting to smile at him.

“No, of course, you couldn’t have known.  Please, it’s fine really.”  He smiled back at her.

“I have my own ex.  Not sure if she’s ever remarried.  We’ve been apart for . . . let’s see, almost four years now, I guess.” 

The conversation opened up an entire line of communication for the two.  They talked for hours, and when Charlie left that afternoon, she realized she was looking forward to talking to him more during the week.  More importantly, the sadness she’d felt over realizing Rennie was so close to marrying May Alice, was completely gone.  

“Pa’s home,” Jaxon exclaimed, as he made his way into the house from the back yard where he’d spent the last hour playing with the dog.  None of the others had wanted to venture out, it had been an unusually cool December that year, and they were not as fond of the cold weather as Jaxon appeared to be. 

“Good, he’s just in time for lunch,” May Alice said, “Go wash up.” 

The others were all settling around the table to share leftovers from the previous day’s feast of turkey and ham.  Rennie joined them and explained the mess about to hit Arlene’s bathroom shower.  When May Alice realized Rennie had given up the job to someone else, she knew why, and she was touched that he would put her, and their marriage planning, first.  He rarely put himself first and she was happy to know he was prepared to do so once in a while.

The kids had received some movies with their Christmas loot and the girls suggested they start a fire in fireplace and watch them all afternoon.  Jaxon rolled his eyes and asked Rennie if they could fish instead.  Rennie said he had one very important chore to tend to first, but after, he would fish with Jaxon a bit.  He told the girls he would start the fire for them and later, after supper, he and Jaxon would join them for a round of games.  Once the girls had settled into the living room, Chantelle started the first movie and joined Denita on the loveseat.  Sabine, Acadia and Missy were huddled on the larger couch and Elizabeth was waiting in the recliner for May Alice to return from the kitchen with the popcorn she’d made for everyone.

Rennie, meanwhile, had made his way out to the garage.  He would be keeping his promise to May Alice to bring the crib inside.  He approached it, and pulled back the blue tarp.  He looked over the wood and the paint trying to decipher what about it had put the look in her eyes from the night before.  He heard scuffling behind him and turned to see Jaxon, making his way toward Rennie.  “Somethin’ wrong with it, Pa?” he asked, looking at Rennie, looking at the crib.

“Naw, I don’t think so.  I was just tryin’ to see what she saw – you remember how she looked at it?” he asked, knowing Jaxon would probably think him crazy.

“She was picturin’ the baby in it,” Jaxson answered simply.  Rennie was speechless; of course, the boy was probably right. _How was it my kids could be so much smarter than me?_   It was a little unnerving.  Rennie surmised that, in his commitment to the form of the crib, he’d forgotten about its function, but May Alice had seen it all.  When the lump in his throat eased, Rennie moved toward Jaxon.  He took the boy’s chin in his hand and said, “I love you, son.”

Jaxon furrowed his brow, and shook his head, and then, laughed a little and said, “You’re weird, Pa.”  The two located the furniture dolly, and Jaxon locked it in place, while Rennie moved to lift the crib on to it.  While they worked, they talked about getting dress shoes for Jaxon, to go with his suit for the wedding, and they agreed they both could use a haircut too. 

Rennie arrived at the front door of the house, ten minutes later, with the little bed.  Jaxon opened the door and was met by the girls all wanting to know what they were doing.  They all gathered to help guide the dolly in, and through the house, to May Alice and Rennie’s room.  Once in there, the kids excitedly debated the best place for the crib to go.  Missy said it should go beside the large picture window so the baby could see the large willow tree in the back yard.  Sabine said the opposite, it should go by the front windows so the baby could see the tree lined driveway and noted, how in the spring, the dogwood trees would all be in full bloom just near the time the baby was due.  Denita disagreed with both, reasoning it would be too cool by a window.  As the girls discussed the best locations in the large room, Rennie and May Alice found themselves staring into each’s eyes.  They could express so much without words and both knew they were simply appreciating everything they’d made together.  Finally, May Alice interrupted the moment, and the debate, between the kids.  She was happy they wanted to be involved in the decision, but she needed to remind them it was not all about the best view for the baby.

“Due to my limitations,” she reminded them, “I think it’s easiest if the crib were here,” she motioned to the small area to next to her side of the bed where, currently, a nightstand stood. 

Acadia snickered, and said, “Duh, we’re not very smart sometimes,” which made the others all laugh, as well.  May Alice held her arms out to the girls who joined in a group hug while she thanked them for already being so helpful with regard to the baby.  Soon after, the crowd departed the room to resume the movie with Rennie and May Alice hanging behind for a moment.  May Alice wheeled to the crib and removed the tarp.  Once again, she was moved to tears upon seeing it.  Understanding better then, thanks to Jaxon, what she saw in it, Rennie knew he didn’t need to say anything, so he simply reached for his, ever-present hankie, and dabbed her tears, feeling that lump he’d pushed down his throat earlier, returning. 

They’d both regained their composure, within minutes, and Rennie sent May Alice back to the living room to rejoin the girls.  He proceeded to move the nightstand away from the bed and replaced it with the crib.  He found another area in the large room for the nightstand, and he’d just finished placing a lamp on top of it, when Jaxon had entered the room, having waited long enough to get to the fishing.  He asked Jaxon what he thought about the placement of the furniture and the boy looked carefully then nodded and said, “It’s good.”  With that, the two left the room, said they’d see the girls later as they passed the living room, and exited out the back door for the garage to retrieve their gear. 

The day finished out the way everyone had planned, and following the last round of Chutes and Ladders, it had been decided that the following day, after May Alice returned from her therapy at the pool, Rennie and Jaxon would be getting shoes and haircuts, and Chantelle and Missy would be taking Missy’s dress to Kellie in bridal shop for alteration.  The haircut discussion got all the girls talking about how they might wear their hair for the ceremony and they were still coming up with ideas as they made their way upstairs for bed.

As he helped May Alice undress and prepare for bed, Rennie laughed at how excited the girls were becoming about the wedding.  It was the first time May Alice had that day to ask him about his trip that morning to Arlene’s.  May Alice wasn’t sure if Arlene knew when the wedding would be, and she hoped she’d not ask to have the kids that Saturday.  Rennie, still oblivious to Arlene’s brief reaction that day, simply confirmed she knew, and she would not expect the children on New Year’s Day.  When May Alice asked him how Arlene reacted to his not doing the plumbing job for her, he said she understood.  It was apparent to May Alice that Rennie had no interest in continuing on with that subject, so she let it go.  It didn’t matter, at that point anyway, what Arlene thought, or didn’t think.  She’d not made waves with the family, and May Alice was grateful for that.  She had a small doubt nagging in the back of her mind, but she let that go too, confident that whatever lay ahead, she could handle, and they would be fine.  It was likely no coincidence that as she thought that, her hand was stroking the wood of the baby’s bed that was, then, right where she’d wanted it.  It was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep that night, and the first thing she would see each morning over the next several years, and every time, it would render her as happy, and at peace, as it did the first morning.


	44. 44

**Chapter 44**

As expected, the post-Christmas week was much busier for the family than the one prior.  The little ceremony on the, coming, Saturday was cause for big excitement for the family.  Everyone felt it, and it was a happy time, one that bonded them in the manner Rennie had hoped for, with the kids witnessing the wedding ceremony.  By Thursday afternoon, when Chantelle and Denita had departed for the airport to pick up Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter, much had been accomplished by the others. 

Missy’s dress had been altered in two days’ time.  Each of the girls had gotten new shoes to wear with their dresses, and they were so excited to wear them they were often seen sporting them with their pajamas.  They explained they were breaking them in, so they would be comfortable by Saturday.  May Alice worked in her usual swim therapy session, happy that Ross didn’t mind working with her during the holiday.  Rennie had found a suit for the wedding, and he and Jaxon had gotten haircuts, and found time for a couple fishing jaunts while the others were shopping, or napping.  Even Brutus had received his first bath, less in preparation for the wedding, as it was in remedy to the odor he’d gained from rolling in something rank near the water’s edge.  The photographer had been confirmed, as had the judge who would perform the ceremony.  Chantelle and May Alice had picked the menu for the meals, and had purchased all the food.  Chantelle had finally convinced May Alice to have a bouquet, even though she remained with the belief that it was silly.  She’d only relented when Chantelle said she was buying wrist corsages for the girls, and Mrs. Carter, to wear.  As they picked the flowers for the bride, it was evident that boutonnieres would also be in order for Rennie, Jaxon and Dr. Blades.  Again, May Alice pondered how her wish to have a small ceremony had grown to basically, a full-on wedding.

The only unknown by Thursday was the status of May Alice’s rings.  Rennie had not yet heard from Mr. Weatherby, and May Alice had started asking for her ring that past Monday.  He’d been successfully stalling, but in throes of passion the night before, he’d promised she’d have her ring the next day.  Whatever he’d need to do to make that happen was worth her gratefulness that night.  Rennie arrived at Weatherby’s shop at noon, Thursday, and to his eternal happiness, Mr. Weatherby had not only her ring, but also two, accompanying custom bands.  “How?” was all he could utter, upon seeing the bands. 

“I had some feelers out to shops in New Orleans and Baton Rouge.  One of them had an antique set.  The golds were very similar to yours which was the biggest hurdle.  They had small diamonds in the center, which I was able to offset in the angles we discussed, while reusing the same settings, see there?” he handed Rennie his eyeglass, and continued, “it’s not exactly what we agreed on, but its real close.  Oh, and of course, there’s the additional gems that were part of the originals, there on the sides.  What do you think?” he asked with a large smile, knowing the ring set was even prettier than what he’d have made with custom bands. 

Rennie was speechless.  The diamonds had been placed, as they’d talked about in the drawing, and he thought the dainty sapphires in the original bands added something even more special than he’d have imagined.  “You must’ve worked the whole week, Mr. Weatherby,” Rennie commented. 

“Tis the season, Mr. Boudreaux,” he said with a wink, “it was a fine challenge and, ultimately, my pleasure.  Do you think she will like it?”

“Aw, gosh, I sure don’t see how she wouldn’t,” he said, looking back at the jeweler, and continued, “it’s remarkable.  I can’t thank you enough.”  He smiled, and held out his hand to shake Mr. Weatherby’s.

The men settled up Rennie’s tab, a bit more pricey than Rennie had anticipated, but one he was happy to pay, knowing what Mr. Weatherby had done.  As Rennie exited the shop, Mr. Weatherby bid his best wishes to the couple, and he expressed his desire to meet Mrs. Boudreaux one day.  Rennie nodded and smiled and was on his way. 

While Rennie made the drive home, his truck housing both, the precious ring, and his suit for the wedding, which he’d also picked up that day, it suddenly dawned on him that he’d promised May Alice her ring that day.  Her ring, the single band he’d given to her with his proposal, which was now soldered to two additional bands.  The closer he got to the house, the more nervous he became about how he would stall her for two more days.  His desire to surprise her easily outweighed whatever guilt he’d have over telling her a little white lie to stall her with.  He had a respite, as Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter had just arrived with Chantelle and Denita, and their presence kept the family engaged for hours.  Even the discussions around all the plans didn’t prompt May Alice to ask Rennie about the ring that day.  However, the next morning was a different story all together.

Rennie had been awake for several minutes when May Alice stirred and worked her way next to him.  She opened her eyes briefly and asked what time it was.  It was barely light out, but due to the weather, not the time.  It was rainy and clouds obscured the sunshine.  “It’s 7:40,” he answered as he rolled over on his elbows to face her.  He kissed her and moved on to his side to allow a hand to caress her abdomen while he placed small kisses on her neck.  After only a moment, he felt the familiar pangs of his desire for her start, and his hand moved upward, pushing up her soft tee, and landing on her breast.  Just as he’d begun the move over her, and to replace his caressing hand with his mouth, Brutus bounded into the room, quickly followed by Elizabeth.  Rennie quickly pulled May Alice’s tee back down and let his head fall, disappointed, on her chest.  May Alice was giggling and patted his back. 

“It’s raining,” Elizabeth declared with some apprehension.  May Alice reached out for the girl as she climbed into the bed with them.  Rennie had rolled over and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  He needed a moment to collect himself and redirect his focus, as making love to May Alice was no longer an option.  As Elizabeth burrowed into the covers, Rennie used the excuse of taking Brutus outside to provide that moment.

When he returned, he could hear May Alice and Elizabeth talking quietly in the bed.  He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he didn’t care, he just enjoyed that his child was so content with having a safe place at May Alice’s side.  They looked so natural together, he had a difficult time remembering there ever was a time when May Alice was not her mother.  He watched them a moment more and then he rousted them from bed, teasing them it was their turn to make breakfast.  He took Elizabeth, to allow May Alice to get up and dressed, while he went to the kitchen to start breakfast.  He fully expected Elizabeth to stick to his side, with the thunder, and the rain imminent, but to his surprise, she offered to go get the other girls up, to help set the table.  He raised an eyebrow at her and asked if she was sure and she explained that she was four now, and she was going to become a big sister soon.  “Mama says I may need to keep the baby from being scared by thunder ‘n I can’t really do that if I’m still afraid too,” she said tentatively.  He knew she was still anxious, but she seemed willing to go it alone, and it made him smile. 

“Well, that’s very brave of you, sweet pea.  I think you’re gonna make a fine big sissy,, and a pretty good helper for Mama too.”  That made Elizabeth smile, and still, with the absence of thunder, she made her way out of the kitchen toward the stairs.  He had to laugh at the small boost in her confidence.  As it turned out, when the thunder came, later in the hour, her confidence lasted, and while she was still visibly startled by the loud claps, she never once cried.  She never strayed far from May Alice, but she survived the day without once requiring solace in May Alice’s lap.

That day was less frantic than those prior, since most all the running around for the wedding had been completed.  Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter arrived from the hotel shortly before noon, and while the weather kept everyone inside most of the day, the kids still played happily, and Chantelle and Denita were able to visit with their guests with relative ease.  Rennie and May Alice finally found some time to be alone.  A small break in the rain allowed them to venture down to the boat dock.  As they watched the wildlife activity in the water, and along the banks, Rennie commented, he wished the weather was better, he could have taken everyone out on the boat.  “That would have been a nice way to ring in the New Year,” May Alice said, “and speaking of ring,” she said, “you promised me mine, _yesterday_.”

Rennie cringed, he’d hoped his luck would have held out just one more day.  “I did, that’s true,” he conceded, “but in all fairness, you had me in a compromising position, I’d have agreed to anything.”

“Well, you know what they say, all is fair, in love and war,” she said without any sympathy.  “So where is it?”

He’d given up on finding any excuse she’d believe, so, he said simply, “You can’t have it until tomorrow.”

“You’re breaking your first promise to me?” She asked, in feigned challenge.

“Only if you believe that the promise was made without mitigating circumstances, which I do not believe to be the case here.” 

She started to retort, but was so taken by his command, even delivered in a playful manner, she knew he was not going to give her that ring before the wedding.  It was sweet, she decided, so she didn’t push.  “Well, you’re not in any compromising position today, so I will hold you to that tomorrow.”  He met her eyes and said she’d not have to worry about that.

“I do have something else for you, though.”  He secured his fishing rod on the dock and told her he’d be right back.  She watched as he left the dock, heading for his truck.  She watched, but the angle was too extreme for her head, so she watched the fishing pole, and the water, until she heard him back on the dock.  He faced her and handed her an old blue spiral notebook.  She looked at it, puzzled by its meaning.  She looked at him and he just smiled at her.  She opened the pages and recognized her handwriting; not how she wrote currently, exactly but rather much more structured and eloquent.  She read some of the words and realized it was a story.  A memory then returned to her; she remembered Rennie confessing he’d once, as a boy, kept a notebook of hers.

“You kept it all these years,” she said quietly, knowing the obvious answer, but so touched that he had.

“Yeah, I told you I liked the story; maybe you can finish it some day?”  Rennie housed an entire quiver of arrows, that often found their way right into her heart, and that notebook, and its return that day, were bullseyes.  She was speechless.  “It’s blue, y’ know?  Like the bride thing?  Something old, something new . . .” he said, giving her a moment to recover from his sentimental surprise.  She never did find the words that day, but one day, in the months to come, she would finish that story; and several others, inspired by Rennie, and they were all the words he’d have ever wanted in exchange.

When they returned later to the house, they found the kitchen alive with activity.  Mrs. Carter and Chantelle had started preparing much of the meats purchased for the post-wedding lunch the following day.  Rennie and May Alice washed up, and joined in with the cooking, as well as helping with that evening’s dinner.  As dinner approached, Rennie summoned the kids to set the table.  Before they’d arrived, Chantelle handed Rennie a piece of paper with a number written on it.  He looked at it with question.

“That is your reservation at the Ramada tonight,” she said with a wicked smile.  He just kept looking at her, trying to register what she was saying.  “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.  You’re already pushing it, I could cut you off at midnight.”

“Don’t you think the cat’s already outta the bag on that?”  He asked, unbelieving.

“I do not; it’s bad luck.  Anyway, she needs her rest; it’s going to be a busy morning.”  He was not thrilled by the idea, he’d already been cheated out of one early morning tryst that day, and he’d been thinking about getting to make up for it that evening.  But Chantelle was right.  If he stayed, rest would certainly not be on his mind. 

“May Alice know about this?”

“Nope.”

“Know about what?” May Alice asked, as she’d returned from the kitchen from a restroom break.

“I am being kicked out of the house for the night,” he said, holding up the piece of paper.

“Already?” she winked in response, but she immediately knew who was behind that terrible plan.  She looked pointedly at Chantelle, who returned her look, with one that said, _too bad, deal with it_.  All May Alice could do was laugh.  Like with Rennie earlier, she thought the gesture sweet, and she knew Chantelle would enforce a separation, even if it was just to make Rennie sleep with Jaxon for the night.  Having him that close, and unable to be with him, was probably the more tortuous of the two options, so, she looked at Rennie, and said in a voice, so soft and low, and so reminiscent of the voice he heard when they were most intimate, “Well, I’ll be thinking of you,” and she topped off the tease with another wink and wheeled off into the kitchen.  Rennie just stood in the doorway and shook his head.  It was going to be a long night.

Although the thought of not sleeping together in their bed was continuously in the back of their minds, the couple were still able to enjoy dinner with family, and guests, and much of the conversation centered around who would be doing what in the morning, to prepare for the ceremony.  They ate, cleaned up the kitchen, which was a sizeable mess following the many tasks of the afternoon, and even found time to play some games while they awaited midnight.  The kids were thrilled to be able to stay up late for the first time, for New Year’s, and though they were tiring out from the day, they would not relent, with the exception of Elizabeth, who had fallen asleep on the couch at 10:00 p.m.  May Alice and Chantelle had gotten some sparkling grape juice for the kids as an additional little surprise, and they were looking forward to celebrating too.

Rennie had started to move Elizabeth upstairs but May Alice asked quietly if he’d put her in their room instead.  If she had to be without Rennie, she might as well have her next favorite companion nearby.  Plus, although the rain and thunder had subsided, they’d not fully moved out, so, if thunder were to wake Elizabeth, she’d settle easily with May Alice at her side.  Rennie kissed his little girl as he settled her head on his pillow.  He whispered his customary _I love you_ to her and tucked her in snugly.  He sat on the side of the bed for a few minutes longer, and reflected on the sounds coming from main room of the house.  He listened to his family, happy and laughing, as they’d done ever since they’d moved in here.  He found himself hopeful that Mr. Culhane would’ve been pleased with what his home had allowed for another man’s family, and in return, he made a silent promise to him that he would love and protect the man’s daughter to the best of his ability.  He then, stood from the bed, and prepared a small bag to take with him to the Ramada, then rejoined his family in the living room.

Upon seeing him place his bag near the front door, Sabine became very concerned, and blurted out, “Pa, where are you going?!”

Chantelle, fearing how Rennie might answer, jumped in, and explained the tradition behind not having the groom see the bride the day of the wedding, “until the wedding.  It adds to the excitement,” she assured them.  They discussed his staying at the Ramada and Missy asked why Rennie didn’t just stay the night in Jaxon’s room. 

“Like _that_ would keep him away from Miss Ma,” Acadia declared, with more astuteness than her age would have predicted.  The adults snickered, and May Alice actually blushed, but the kids all just took it as truth, and moved on to other subjects, while Rennie explained to Jaxon he’d return in the morning, before the ceremony, and they’d rehearse Jaxon’s role once more before the wedding.

“. . . seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!” everyone counted down together with Dick Clark in the background on the TV, as they welcomed 1994 with cheers, and toasts with sparkling cider.  Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter understood the importance of the lack of alcohol, so, didn’t mind one bit.  They happily cheered along with the cider, and kissed, and hugged, with the rest of the crowd.  They even danced together in the living room where the kids watched, impressed with the skill the two exhibited.  Only Jaxon seemed to have to missed the point of the tradition.  Once the initial celebrating had passed, he looked at everyone and held his arms out to his side in a questioning stance, and said “So, that’s it?”  The others smiled, or chucked, and Rennie asked what else he might have been expecting.  “I don’t know, but . . .something!”

A short time later, as Rennie had entered Jaxon’s room with the suit he was relocating from his, and May Alice’s closet, he explained that, as the boy aged, ringing in the New Year would become more fun, and there would be more to do.  He didn’t elaborate on what that might entail, and Jaxon was too tired and unimpressed to ask, but he did proclaim that he hoped the celebration the following day would be a little more exciting.  Rennie didn’t say that, for Jaxon, it probably wouldn’t be.


	45. 45

**Chapter 45**

Finally, the day everyone had been waiting for was upon them.  The rain and thunder from the previous day were gone which made May Alice happy, thinking how relieved Elizabeth would be, even though, she’d put up a very brave front the day before.  She smiled at the little girl, sleeping in the spot where Rennie would otherwise be.

Although she and Rennie had combined household’s weeks prior, and she had been pregnant with their child over five months, there was still a definite feeling of change for her that morning, and she knew it was so much more than just ringing in a new year.  She suddenly pitied those people who were content to live together and never marry, feeling that a piece of paper would not change how they felt for one another.  She knew that, not so long ago, she might have even been one of them.  But, she was no longer that person, having been blessed by the many events that brought her, and Rennie together.  Before she had a chance to really go back to the beginning and reflect on each one, Brutus and Elizabeth both awoke. 

“Good morning, Mama,” the sleepy girl whispered, wiping her eyes.

“Good morning, my love,” May Alice said, hugging the girl tightly, and placing a kiss on her head.  “Guess what?  The rain is gone, no more thunder.”

Elizabeth smiled, and snuggled into May Alice’s neck.  After a few moments, Elizabeth asked, “Where’s Papa?”  May Alice briefly explained why he was not there with them.  “Do ya think Pa did okay?”

“Well, why don’t we find out?” May Alice replied, releasing her hold on the girl, and maneuvering to get out of the bed, and into her chair.  “We’ll call and wake him up!”  While putting on her robe, May Alice reminded Elizabeth to go potty, then they made their way out to the main part of the house, and greeted Chantelle who was making breakfast, with no sign of the girls.  May Alice inquired, and Chantelle said the girls had been up since 6:00 a.m., and were, once again, debating hair styles for the wedding.  May Alice offered to help with breakfast, but Elizabeth reminded her they needed to call Rennie.  Chantelle raised an eyebrow at them.

“You never said I couldn’t talk to him,” May Alice responded, before Chantelle said anything.

“Fine.  I can’t believe I actually got him to agree to the not seeing you part, anyway.”

“Yeah, thanks for _that_ ,” May Alice said with fake annoyance.

“I can do it,” Elizabeth said, as she held up the receiver and waited for May Alice to quote her the phone number to the hotel.  She poked each number and waited for an answer.  May Alice explained someone else would answer, and she’d have to ask for room 210.  She did, and was quickly greeted with her father’s voice.

“Changed your mind?” he said, fully expecting the caller to be May Alice, and not his youngest daughter.  May Alice watched Elizabeth’s face twist with confusion. 

“Papa?”  Immediately, he registered it was not May Alice on the other end, and he worked quickly to assure Elizabeth she had the right number.  She asked how he was, and if he was going to get to eat at the hotel.  He assured her he was fine, and that the hotel would provide him a nice breakfast, and then he asked how Mama was.  “She’s good, she’s right here,” and Elizabeth relinquished the receiver to May Alice, and left to retrieve Brutus, who Chantelle had let out into the back yard.

“Good morning,” she said with that same, sexy low voice he’d come to crave.  It reminded him they rarely spoke on the phone, _maybe she’d sound that way all the time?_   He’d definitely have to consider getting a mobile phone, he decided.

“Good morning,” he smiled into the phone, as his imagination, and the tone of her voice, had him cursing having agreed to spend the night apart.  “I missed you . . . a lot.”

May Alice chuckled, “I missed you too; did you sleep all right?”

“No.”  She laughed, and said she was sorry, and they made small talk for the next few minutes, just happy to be together, in some sense of the word.  She would have reminded him to be home by 10:30 because the photographer was due then, but she didn’t need to; it was clear he was already ready to be there, but he finally agreed he’d stay away until 10:00.  He would come early to help prepare Jaxon for the ceremony.

When they hung up, May Alice summoned the girls from upstairs for breakfast.  As they all arrived, full of excitement about the day, no one but May Alice noticed Jaxon was missing.  “Acadia, have you seen your brother this morning?”

“Oh Lord!” the girl exclaimed, “I completely forgot!”  She jumped from the table and ran upstairs to retrieve her sleeping brother.

“Thank you,” May Alice called out after her, while all the others were laughing in agreement about how they’d all forgotten about the poor boy.

At 8:00 a.m. the doorbell at the house rang.  No one was expecting anyone that early and all the kids, who were finishing up with the breakfast dishes, all turned to May Alice, as though she’d know who was there.  In fact, she did.  She was smiling, and said, “I have a little surprise of my own for you girls.”  They all rushed into the living room, and May Alice opened the door, and welcomed in two young ladies who were each toting multiple bags.  May Alice greeted them, and welcomed them in.  Missy immediately recognized them and rushed to hug them.

“Miss Maritza, Janice – what are y’all doin’ here?” Missy asked.  The ladies were smiling, and turned to May Alice, who explained to the other girls they were from a shop in town, and they’d agreed to come do the girls’ hair for the wedding.  Jaxon had to cover his ears to shield them from the shrieks that immediately followed the announcement.  He grabbed a startled Brutus and headed for the back yard.

Maritza, the barber’s niece who had helped out Rennie and Missy with the round brush incident long ago, had continued to cut and style Missy’s hair ever since.  The other girls had not yet cultivated the same desire for a hair style, as their middle sister had, and thus, didn’t know either of the women.  Janice also worked in barber shop with Maritza, and her uncle. May Alice instructed the girls to go wash their faces and brush their teeth so that when their hair was done, all they’d need to do was dress.  She instructed them to return to her room, when they were finished, where the stylists would be set up to do their hair.  They were thrilled to get to spend time in the spacious room, an area they rarely hung out in normally.  May Alice escorted the women into the room and invited them to set up any way they saw fit.  It was an incredible gesture that the pair would agree to work on the holiday, but Maritza got such a kick out of Missy being one of her best clients at the barber shop, she was happy to do the favor.  Once she’d met May Alice in person a few weeks prior, she insisted that May Alice allow her to do her hair and make-up for the wedding, as well. 

While the mini-salon was in full swing in her bedroom, May Alice had unpacked the gold band that would become Rennie’s later that morning.  She’d had it cleaned, and had left it in the garment bag that housed her wedding dress.  Looking at it that morning, she couldn’t help but think of her parents.  She had thought of them often in the past months, for many obvious reasons, and she knew that day would likely be no exception.  Every time she summoned a memory of them since being with Rennie, she came to some important conclusion about them that she’d overlooked as an inexperienced, immature child.  With each new revelation came a deeper understanding of who her mother and father were, and she was profoundly comforted by that.  As she ran her finger across the inscription etched in the gold, forty-one years earlier, she smiled, and said a quiet thank you to her parents.  She’d come to understand the bond they had between them; the very bond she’d so often felt excluded from when she young.  She understood it because it’s what she felt with Rennie.  Perhaps more importantly for her, she understood the boundless love she had for the children.  She finally understood her parents loved her, every bit as much as they’d loved one another; passionately, and endlessly, and one love did not exist without the other.  She laughed silently that, even in death, her parents were still leading her, teaching her and comforting her.

By 10:00 a.m., the girls, with the exception of Elizabeth and Denita, were complete, with beautiful long curls and ribbons in their normally, straight hair.  Denita, who normally wore double ponytails, had opted for a single stylish bun, accented with a silk gardenia blossom.  Elizabeth, unlike her sister’s, had much curlier hair.  She was still a bit young for styling tools, so, Janice compensated with some curl definer and tiny rhinestone hair combs that held her hair back on the side, showing off her sweet little face, and her big green eyes. 

Chantelle spirited everyone upstairs to start getting dressed.  As they clamored up the stairs, the front door opened, and Rennie entered.  Chantelle stopped her ascent, to face him, and demanded he follow her up, so she’d know he’d not be sneaking a look at his bride-to-be.  It was silly, her keeping them apart like that, she knew, but there was so little tradition surrounding them, she thought a little bit might be nice.  They’d agreed, so she thought maybe they understood her intent.

May Alice settled into her turn with hair and make-up.  She found herself happy she’d agreed to it because, following her bath that morning, she was already tiring out, having been up later than usual the night before, and in spite of her excitement over her wedding day.  Having Maritza and Janice there allowed her to rest and even relax a bit.  She told Maritza her preference for her hair that day, just a simple loose French braid in the back.  Maritza agreed with the style, but instead of a single braid in back, she started it on one side of May Alice’s head and braided diagonally and downward, leaving the end of the braid resting at her collar bone.  Janice had asked to see the dress, to gauge the appropriate colors for the make-up.  She was glad she had, because the beautiful light champagne color of the charmeuse fabric, coupled with May Alice’s auburn hair and ivory skin, could have resulted in her looking washed out.  Instead, Janice produced a flawless, sun-kissed foundation, and blush that had a radiant effect.  She chose a pale pink shadow, and a soft brown liner that highlighted May Alice’s naturally bright green eyes.  A slightly darker pink lipstick provided just enough color to pull all the striking features of May Alice’s face together.  She was pleased with the look.  While she could wear make-up like no one’s business, her New York years were mired in the glamourous looks of dark liners and deep red lipsticks.  This was the first time she’d seen herself in soft, feminine shades, and it suited her life now perfectly.  She felt beautiful, in a way she had not before.  “The camera must have loved you,” Janice said, admiring the look along with May Alice and Maritza.  “You’re just beautiful, Miss May Alice.”

“You’re too kind, Janice.  And you’re an artist, I’d never have picked these colors, and I love them.” 

Chantelle knocked at the door, and entered fully dressed, and looking pretty good in her own right.  “You look great,” she said to May Alice.  “Are you ready to dress?”  May Alice responded, in kind, and thanked her, and confirmed she was ready. 

Maritza and Janice were packing their gear as Chantelle and May Alice made their way into the bathroom.  May Alice asked how the preparations in the rest of the house were going, and Chantelle informed her that Mrs. Carter was quite the organizer.  She had the girls, Rennie, and Jaxon, all ready and snacking in the kitchen.  The flowers had all arrived, and Mrs. Carter had them sorted, and labeled on the table, and she had agreed to get the photographer started with the kids and Rennie, knowing Chantelle needed to help May Alice.  “And just wait until you see Jaxon,” she teased.  May Alice smiled, and wondered what the little man was up to. 

Chantelle assisted May Alice in standing, holding the sink to steady her, while Chantelle removed the dress from the padded hanger.  She positioned it over May Alice’s head, and began to work it down her body.  The dress was floor length, and Chantelle was happy that the silky charmeuse fabric was hardy, and didn’t seem to wrinkle, as they maneuvered it.  May Alice worked her arms, one at a time, into the long sleeves, and once done, Chantelle proceeded to pull the fabric down the rest of her body.  The top of dress was made to fall just off the shoulders and incorporated a large, smooth, fold that made up a cowl across the shoulders and bust, and ending just above the waist.  The bodice of the dress was narrow, and fit close to the body, but still produced a flowy silhouette.  As the dress came down past May Alice’s belly, it was a little snug, and Chantelle hoped May Alice would not become apprehensive about it.  “Looks like you’re wearing it in the nick of time,” she said patting the area.

“It’s why I chose this one.  I liked that it showed the baby a little,” she confessed with a smile.  When Chantelle had finished lowering the rest of the fabric to the floor, she helped turn May Alice to the full-length mirror on the back of the door, and let her look it over.  Both women looked at the image in the mirror and smiled.  They called Maritza and Janice, who had been eager to see the final result, and allowed them in for the preview. 

“Wow” they declared in unison, causing everyone to laugh.  They congratulated her on her wedding, and wished her their best.  They, then, retrieved their bags, and May Alice thanked them again for coming out on the holiday, and she gave each an envelope with their payment and a very gracious tip.  The stylists left the room, and found everyone all dressed up, and posing with the photographer.  Missy walked them out and asked how “Miss Ma” looked.  Maritza and Janice looked at each other, then looked to the girl and replied, again in unison, “She’s beautiful.”

As they exited the house, the judge was making his way up to the porch.  Upon seeing him, Mrs. Carter welcomed him in, and began introducing him to the kids, while the photographer set up for the ceremony.  Chantelle had left May Alice to retrieve the flowers and check on everyone else.

May Alice put her shoes on, and again, retrieved Rennie’s ring from its small velvet pouch.  She placed it on her thumb and then wheeled back to the full-length mirror and looked, once again, at herself, that time, placed in the chair.  Even sitting, the fabric of her dress fell nicely, but she still looked forward to standing with Rennie during the ceremony.  Her eyes were drawn to her belly, which showed even more prominently, of course, now that she was seated.  She ran her hand across it, and realized how quiet the child had been that day, and she laughed a little picturing it sleeping after having been kept up late the night before celebrating the New Year.

Chantelle returned with May Alice’s bouquet of deep pink stargazer lilies and white roses.  “They’re even prettier than I imagined,” she said, taking them from Chantelle.  “Here, this is for you to hold,” and she removed the ring from her thumb and handed it to her.  As Chantelle reached for it, May Alice held her hand in place.  She looked up at Chantelle, and said, “I know I’ve said this before, but I couldn’t have done any of this without you.  I wouldn’t even _want_ to,” she finished humbly.

Chantelle squeezed her hand, in response, and she smiled at May Alice.  “You’re certainly nothing I’d planned on, but I couldn’t be more honored to be standing out there with you today.”  After a moment, she continued, “So, are you ready to get married, or what?”

“Let’s do it.”


	46. 46

**Chapter 46**

Chantelle poked her head out of May Alice’s bedroom and received the okay from Mrs. Carter that everyone was in place and ready.  She, then, positioned herself behind May Alice’s chair and pushed it out of the room, into the living room, where the family members were standing, awaiting the bride’s entrance.  The judge was posed in front of the Christmas tree, and Rennie and Jaxon were on his right, the girls all lined up on the left.  The photographer was positioned in the kitchen entrance, facing the master bedroom, to capture the bride as she entered the living room.  When the women arrived in the room, they were met with audible gasps, and big smiles from the girls, who had never seen May Alice looking so beautiful.  Rennie was speechless.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  He felt flushed and for a moment, weak in the knees.  The judge, sensing the emotion, steadied Rennie with a small grip on his elbow.  He smiled too, upon seeing such a lovely bride approaching. 

May Alice, too, if she could have, would have been weak in the knees at the sight of Rennie.  He was more handsome than she’d ever seen him before.  His suit was exquisitely tailored to his trim body, his tanned face, and amber eyes were highlighted by the perpetual smile on his face, and she noticed a little moisture in his eyes as she approached.  She reluctantly drew her attention away from her husband-to-be for a moment to acknowledge each of the people in the room.  First, she saw Jaxon, who was the spitting image of his father in his little suit, and perfectly combed hair.  He was smiling but looking down, bashful at being gawked at all morning, and maybe just a little surprised at how pretty ‘Miss Malice’ looked.  Although she’d seen the girls earlier, she’d not seen them in their dresses since Christmas, and she noticed that under the velvet green, they each had a soft ivory petticoat that she didn’t know had been added.  They each looked older, and prettier than their tender years, and for a split second she feared, one day, being the step-mother of three, teenage girls.  She then saw Mrs. Carter, and Dr. Blades, and realized she’d not seen them yet that day, so, she gripped their hands and whispered “good morning” to both, as she made her way toward the tree, the judge, and Rennie.

When they’d arrived in their spot, Chantelle locked the wheelchair in place, and took her position behind May Alice.  She, too, noticed the mist in Rennie’s eyes, which had progressed to the point he needed his handkerchief to dry them.  Rather than replace it in his suit pocket, he held it in his palm. 

The judge began his role, and, at Rennie’s request, spent some time explaining to everyone the covenant of marriage, and why avowing, in front of loved ones, was so important.  Rennie had cautioned that the audience was young, and the judge had assured him he could find a way to communicate effectively to them.  He did not disappoint.  He tempered his speech between formal and personable, hoping the formal would assure the kids something official was happening, and personable by presenting it with terms they could all appreciate. 

He started by explaining how the “ceremony of wedding” served several purposes for families.  There was the legal, which is why he was present.  He explained he was an officer of the court, which enforced laws, and, in this case, made marriages legal.  And there was the symbolic.  “Now the legal part doesn’t really concern all of you,” he said pointing around the room at the kids, “It’s boring adult-stuff that while important, is as interesting as watching paint dry.”  The kids all snickered at the thought.  “Now, what is more important for each of you, is what we call the symbolic gesture of marriage.  You see, you have all been asked here today to witness your father making a promise to Miss May Alice.  He is promising to love her, to be her friend, and her protector.  He is promising to always put this family first.  Your needs, and her needs, will come before his, and in return, Miss May Alice will love him, care for him, and always put him first.  By doing so, they form a partnership.”  He asked the kids if they understood partnership, and to clarify he used the analogy of burgers and fries, which made the kids laugh outright.  He explained how you could have the burger without fries, but weren’t they always just better together?  The kids had to agree.  He then clarified that marriage was a little more serious than a burger and fries, and they seemed to understand that as well.

He then continued, “By having you here with him today, your father is granting you some responsibility for making sure he, and Miss May Alice, always honor their promises to one another.  You see, sometimes the busy nature of family life makes it hard to always remember those promises every day.  You know, we all get annoyed with one another from time to time, don’t we?  Jaxon,” he put the boy on the spot, “How many times have you, flat-out not had a clue why your sisters were doing something?” Jaxon shrugged his shoulders.  “They can be nutty, can’t they?” 

That made Jaxon smile and he said, “Like, every day.”  That had everyone laughing again.

“Acadia, you’ve been angry with Sabine before?”  Rennie was impressed with the judge’s memory of everyone’s name, having only ever met him, and May Alice one time. 

“Probably, yeah,” she said giggling. 

“Why were you angry with her?”

“I don’t know,” she said nervously.

The judge clapped his hands together for effect, “You see?!” he said, excitedly, drawing the kids’ attention, “It didn’t last.  You know you were distracted by something in life that made you angry, but right now, you don’t even remember what that was; you let whatever it was go, after a day or two, and got back to the business of being family, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, and looked at Sabine who was smiling back.

“Now, did you stop loving your sister when you were angry?”

“No.”

“That’s right.  Love is much stronger than the distractions of life.  But sometimes, if we let that confusion, or that anger go on, and on, we can lose sight of our love, and the fact that we are supposed to be partners.  Now, what you are being asked to do here today, is help your Dad and Miss May Alice keep those distractions from getting in the way of them loving one another.  If you focus on the words they will be saying to one another here shortly, and if you remember the googly-eyed looks they’re sharing right now, look,” he turned everyone’s focus to May Alice and Rennie, who were in face, only looking at one another.  The kids laughed with acknowledgment, and relief, that they were no longer the ones on the spot.  “If you remember that look, you will always be able to remind them of this day, and the promises they are making to each other.  Does that make sense?”  The kids all nodded.  “Well then, I think we should get on with it,” he finished with his own smile at the doting couple.

He took his position between the two, and opened a bible, and began the traditional introduction to the wedding ceremony.   Within minutes, he arrived at the citing of the vows.  Rennie gave Jaxon the signal to retrieve May Alice’s ring from his pocket and have it ready.  He then knelt down before May Alice, and nodded at the judge to begin.  Chantelle removed the bouquet May Alice had been holding, to free her hands for Rennie.  He instinctively took her hands in his and recited his traditional vows.  He did well with his words, right up to sickness and health, at which time, he watched a small tear escape May Alice’s eyes; following that, he had difficulty finishing with the steady, confident voice he’d started with. Nevertheless, he finished with “until death do us part.”  

The judge allowed just a small moment to pass before prompting May Alice for her vows.  When he could see they were ready, he said her name.  She asked him for just a moment, and turned slightly to Chantelle, who had passed the bouquet on to Acadia, then moved behind May Alice and bent to begin to lift her at her waist as May Alice used her arms to lift herself up.  Rennie, then, realized what she’d wanted, and he, too, stood and helped her the rest of the way up.  Once steadied, Rennie nodded at Chantelle to release her hold on May Alice, as he would steady her firmly, as she held his hands for support.  She smiled brightly then, happy to be face-to-face with him.  She took her eyes off Rennie only for a split second, as a gesture to the judge that she was ready, but just as she did, she felt a sharp movement within her belly that prompted an audible, _Ooh,_ of surprise, from her.  She blushed at her brief outburst, but quickly recovered, even though that particular kind of movement from the baby was something new.  “ _We_ are ready,” she said laughing at the timing of the unborn Boudreaux’s movement.

She recited her vows flawlessly, filled with confidence, and eagerness, and she had no trouble getting through the sickness and health portion, that time.  She lingered on her final vow, and said with conviction, “I will love, and honor you, all the days of my life.”

The judge, then, looked to Jaxon, who had remained riveted on the scene before him.  It was hard to say if it was so he’d not miss his cue, or if he was truly taken with exchange happening.  Regardless, he produced the ring to the judge with surprising maturity.  The judge then moved toward Chantelle and accepted the gold band she had been holding.  He held up the rings for his audience.  May Alice did a double take, convinced the ring he was holding was not the cherished ring Rennie had given her on her birthday.  She gave Rennie a questioning look, that he completely missed, because he was doing his own double take, not having realized May Alice had a ring for him in return.  When he met her eyes, he was smiling so happily, she put her inquiry to rest, trusting her ring was, surely, the same as it had been.

“I hold in my hand two beautiful rings, symbolic of a binding contract, to be given, and received, as bonds of never-ending love, and devoted friendship, circles of life, and circles of love.  Let them always reflect the vows and promises you’ve willingly exchanged, in front of your family, and loved ones, here today.”  He handed a ring to Rennie, and invited him to repeat a traditional ring vow.

“May Alice, I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and, with all that I am, and all that I have, I will love and honor you.  With this ring, I thee wed.” 

As he removed his hand, having placed the newly altered ring on her finger, she viewed it for the first time.  She recognized the intricate band, surrounded, now, by delicate, similar bands on either side.  Rennie watched her carefully; hopeful she would appreciate the additions; but she’d stared at it longer than he’d expected, and the perpetual smile he’d been enjoying on her, lapsed.  Just as he’d convinced himself he’d erred in an unforgivable way, she finally looked up at him and whispered “It’s beautiful.”

Before continuing on, the judge asked May Alice, in a hushed tone, if she was doing all right.  He didn’t know the level of her stamina for standing, and didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, or forget her possible limitations.  She assured him she was fine.  He handed her Rennie’s ring, and she repeated the same vow Rennie had, as she placed the gold band on his finger.  Before she could remove her hand, he gripped it tightly with his, and squeezed it affectionately.  He also, once again, had mist forming in his eyes as he looked at her.  At some point she’d, obviously missed, he’d handed Jaxon the hanky he’d had at the start of the ceremony.  She watched as Jaxon, unsolicited, returned the cloth to his father.  As Rennie blotted his eyes, she realized her cheeks hurt from all the smiling she was doing. 

With a quick moment of the jovial returning, the judge addressed the kids again.  “Here comes the good stuff,” then he went right back to the authoritative, officer-of-the-court inflection, and continued, “Rennie, May Alice, in so much as the two of you have agreed to join together in matrimony, and have promised your love for one other, by these vows, the giving of these rings, and the joining of your hands, with the authority granted me, by the great state of Louisiana, it is my honor to declare you husband and wife.  May the Lord bless you and keep you.  May the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you.  May the Lord lift up his countenance unto you, and give you peace.”  He smiled at them, but as usual, their eyes were on only one another, “Congratulations.”

After a moment, Acadia, looking at the judge, inquired, “Didn’t you forget something?”

He pretended ignorance, “Did I?”

“Kiss her, Pa!” Missy interjected happily, not waiting for the judge. 

No one had to say it twice.  Rennie gripped May Alice around the waist and pulled her, and her belly, in for a tight embrace, and a kiss as passionate as the judge had ever seen.  The kids were speechless.  They’d never seen their father kiss anyone like that, not even the first time they saw him kiss May Alice on the boat in the summer.  Still, everyone watched, and no one made any remark, perhaps having reached a true understanding that this marriage, between their father and May Alice, was going to be far different from the one they’d known previously.  As the couple parted, and Rennie helped Chantelle lower May Alice back into her chair, the judge encouraged the kids to welcome May Alice to their family.  Never having realized ‘Miss Ma’ was not really a part of their family before that moment, a hush fell over each one of them.  Rennie sensed the seriousness in the kids as they each approached and genuinely embraced her, happily, but quiet, and, maybe, a little overwhelmed by their own emotions.  As he watched them, he felt confident that he’d made the right decision to include them the way he had.  Jaxon was the last to approach the couple, and when Rennie embraced him, he whispered that Jaxon had been a perfect helper, and he couldn’t have been prouder, which made Jaxon smile.

Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter also approached the couple, as the kids all spread out around the living room, awaiting the photographer to set up for the rest of the photos that would, this time around, include May Alice and Chantelle.  Once everyone had congratulated the pair, May Alice reached for Rennie’s hand.  She placed it over her stomach and let him feel as the baby produced a firm pushing movement just beneath the soft material of her dress.

“Do you feel that?” The look on his face answered.  To then, he’d felt her belly out of desire, and solidarity for what was growing there, but he’d only occasionally felt a small lump, here or there, just beneath his hand.  Now, he felt what she had earlier, pronounced movement.  They smiled at one another and shared another meaningful kiss.

“You are more beautiful than I’ve even seen you before,” Rennie said.  “This dress, your hair, everything.  You take my breath away,” he said while placing a small kiss on the back of her hand. 

“And you take mine,” she said in response.  His gesture reminded her about her ring.  “Hey, what did you do to my ring?” she said with mock annoyance.

“Hey,” he responded mimicking her tone, but ignoring her inquiry, and asking instead, “Where did you get my ring?”

“Oh, take it off; I want to show you something.”  He removed the band and they inspected it together.  “It was my father’s,” she said while she pointed out the inscription.  Upon reading it, he was visibly moved.  He looked at her, incredulous.  He knew what her father had meant to her, how much she adored him, and how lost she’d become after his passing.  That she would share something, so personal of his, and knowing it had clearly been a gift celebrating her birth, it became one of the most poignant moments of Rennie’s life.  She’d believed Rennie to be the only other person who could appreciate the sentiment behind her wanting him to become the new bearer of the ring, and when she watched his reaction, she knew her father would have agreed, that she’d chosen the perfect recipient to perpetuate the event symbolized by the ring.  Her father loved, and protected her at the beginning of her life, and Rennie would do the same for the remainder of it.

She felt the baby moving again, and as she acknowledged it with a rub across her stomach, she admired the child’s sense of timing, producing irrefutable proof of new life, on the first day of a new year, and the first day of its parents’ new life together.

Following many more photographs, the rest of the day saw the celebration continue with the amazing food May Alice, Chantelle, Rennie, and Mrs. Carter had all taken part in preparing in the days prior.  The judge and the photographer, both, joined the family for the large lunch, and traditional sharing of the wedding cake, which was a half sheet cake, that Mrs. Carter had baked for them on Friday.  It had been adorned with her homemade frosting and little sugar flowers that, in keeping with what was becoming a theme in the family, she’d allowed the kids to paint with food coloring of their choice. 

Eventually, the judge and photographer were thanked, and they departed, leaving the families to unwind and relax a bit.  Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter decided they, too, would depart for a few hours to rest and change clothes but would return later that evening.  Once they’d gone, the girls debated about changing out of their dresses.  They felt so pretty in them, they hated to change, but admitted they’d never play in them, so off they went.  Jaxon had changed an hour earlier and was happily entertaining himself with organizing lures in his new tackle box. 

“I think I should get out of this dress too,” May Alice said.  “Care to help me?” she asked Rennie, in that familiar, low voice.  Chantelle rolled her eyes, and said she hoped to see them again later.

Shortly before 6:00 PM, Rennie woke from an impromptu nap he’d succumbed to following,g his sleepless night prior, an amazingly emotional ceremony, a reception of sorts, and an afternoon lovemaking session, the likes of which he’d never performed so well in.  He watched his partner from that afternoon, also sleeping contently, and hated having to wake her.  He had heard the door shortly before, and knew the Doctor and Mrs. Carter had returned to the house.  As he debated how much longer to let May Alice sleep, she began stirring.  She opened her eyes and presented him with the smile of a Cheshire cat.  “As honeymoon’s go, that was a hell of a start, Mr. Boudreaux.”  _I’m a dead man_ , he thought, hearing her say it was only the start.

As the families visited more that evening, and snacked on the leftovers from lunch, the subject of Dr. Blades and Mrs. Carter’s dancing, from the night before, came up.  Denita reminded her grandpa that he had once started to teach her to dance like that, and he, of course, was happy to revisit the memory by escorting her into the living room for another lesson.  As everyone watched the couple fidget with steps, and the obvious height difference, May Alice settled by Sabine, who was sitting in a chair by the Christmas tree.  Sabine looked sleepy and May Alice asked if she’d taken a nap that day.  Sabine answered that she had tried but she couldn’t fall asleep so she read instead.  “Did you know how to dance, Miss Ma?” Sabine asked her quietly.

“I did, I used to dance all the time, in New York.  It’s a lot of fun,” she answered, thinking Sabine was cultivating an interest in it.

“Who taught you?”

“Well, I learned some things at dance class.  Ballet and tap, and then, that kind of dance,” she gestured to Denita and Dr. Blades, “came a little later, in a special type of class I took in school.”  She didn’t feel up to explaining finishing school to Sabine, hoping the girl would never be subject to it, even being a fine Southern gal herself.

“I wish you could still dance, Miss Ma,” Sabine said with a sorrowful look on her face.  “I think Pa would have really liked to dance with you.”  Then Sabine took May Alice’s hand and held it in hers.  May Alice could do nothing but smile at the girl. 

Eventually Dr. Blades summoned Rennie to help him with giving the girls lessons, and by the end of the evening, everyone had danced with everyone, except of course, Jaxon, who found the whole idea of holding girls that close revolting.  He accommodated staying and watching, however.  They’d even broken out the ancient stereo in the living room, and played actual dance music on the turntable that, remarkably, still worked.  May Alice surmised maybe the music is what kept Jaxon engaged in the festivities, since it was obviously not the dancing.  As they sat together, May Alice told him the weather should still be nice the next day, and maybe they could get some fishing in.  He smiled brightly at the thought.  She, then, risked telling him that he looked very handsome that day in his suit and tie, and she said he did a fine job standing with them, and she thanked him for doing it.  He was again, bashful but he accepted her compliments.  A few moments later he stood up from the couch where he’d been sitting and whispered into her ear, “You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Miss Malice.”  She raised her hand to her mouth, to obscure her smile, and keep from giving him up to the others, and before she could say anything, he’d run off to the kitchen. 

Chantelle had been choosing the music for the unexpected dance class, and noted to May Alice that her family had some great albums in the old cabinet.  She had found, and set aside, a particular selection in case an opportunity presented itself to play it.  In the meantime, the choreography of actual dances had all fallen into nothing but a free-for-all, with kids moving spastically to whatever songs Chantelle had been choosing.  By 8:30 p.m., everyone had tired from the activities, and had all begun filtering in, and out of the kitchen, and living room.  As the crowd in the living room had dwindled, Chantelle seized the opportunity to play the particular album she’s set aside, and started a song on the turntable; she, then, quietly departed the room, turning off the main lights on her way out, leaving only the Christmas tree lights to illuminate the space that Rennie and May Alice were left alone in.  Hearing the soft, gentle song, Rennie moved to May Alice, and gently picked her up from the chair.  She wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but followed along as he placed one of her arms over his shoulder and gripped her other arm with his, while he held her in place around the waist, and started to sway to the song with her snugly against him.  She smiled, recognizing the song, and nestled her head against his, and slow danced with her husband in the only way she could now.

As the music played, each of the kids had become curious about the beautiful melody they could, only slightly hear, coming from the living room.  It was not like any of the other songs they’d all been dancing to.  In curiosity, they moved quietly to the doorway, and peered into the dimness of the living room, to see Rennie and May Alice, standing, embraced, and moving to the music in a pseudo-dance of their own.

Honey, you, are my shining star.  
Don't you go away.  
Wanna be right here where you are  
until my dying day.   
  
Feels so good when we're lying here next to each other,  
lost in love.   
  
Baby, when we touch, love you so much.  
You're all I ever dreamed of.

As the song continued Sabine watched, she smiled, and thought to herself, _looks like Pa got his dance after all._


	47. 47

**Chapter 47 (M rate)**

Just as she had pondered that same morning, May Alice, again, knew that where some believe there’s little difference in marrying the person you’ve been living with, such was not the case for her and Rennie.  From that day on, she finally felt like she’d found her place in the world, and it was by Rennie’s side.  She marveled at the contrast in how she felt that day, compared to the day she’d married her first husband, which in retrospect, felt like just another role she was acting in.  For one small instant that day, she felt bad for her ex-husband, like she’d deceived him with a sham marriage; but just as quickly she knew, he had done the same.  For Rennie, he’d never, not taken his marriage to Arlene seriously, but even he, had a completely different feeling when making his vow to May Alice that day.  He did not recall having felt the words with Arlene, but he nearly ached saying them to May Alice, as though he would stop breathing if he felt May Alice wouldn’t believe every promise he was making to her in those moments.  Perhaps, he thought, it was experience, and age, that had made him understand the covenant he was making with her now, or maybe having the kids present as he declared his love for her, he didn’t know for certain, and he cared even less, all he knew was that, this, felt real, this felt unbreakable.

Armed with their newfound understanding about what being married felt like, their lovemaking that night was different from any they’d shared prior.  It was like another slow dance.  They stared into each other’s eyes, but said nothing; their movements, right in time with one another.  He knew she could not feel him in the way an able-bodied woman may have, but her face, her moans, and her responses had him believing she was missing nothing, and it intoxicated him.  He willed himself to keep it unhurried even though he knew, from that day on, they had nothing but time.  As he began to peak, her back arched, and the additional firmness of their child, in her belly pushed into his, stimulated him to climax in a way he never knew possible.  He emitted a guttural moan, the likes of which neither had heard from him before.  His entire body shuddered and remained rigid and hard; the muscles in his torso and arms enveloping her, as he wrapped her tightly with his whole body, and rolled her over on top of him.  For the first time ever in her life, May Alice softly cried with the intensity.

As she settled, Rennie fell off to sleep.  Laying on him, still solidly wrapped in his arms, she was awash in memories from the past two years of her life.  They flooded through her, causing her breathing to suddenly increase, but only for a moment.  As quickly, as they ran through her mind, she felt the familiar comfort of that invisible force inside her; the one she’d begun feeling the day she learned she was pregnant.  That indelible force that calmed her, and gave her the actual confidence she’d always believed she’d lacked.  She savored the memories, proud of the trials she’d been put though, knowing then, that Rennie was her reward.  The kids, her unborn child, and Chantelle were her blessings.  Endowed by the experiences of that day and night, she fell into a deep, contented sleep, eager to wake up the next day as Rennie’s wife. For the next three months, she would experience the same excitement of going to bed, and waking with, that man.  No matter what the days brought, she never lost the fierce empowerment she’d gained in vowing to be his partner.

One morning, that third month, however, her bliss was interrupted, by a slightly panicked Rennie.  He had awoken before her, as he often did, but especially now, in the last weeks of her pregnancy.  She was uncomfortable most of the time, and rarely slept for more than a few hours at once.  He’d rolled over to place his customary kiss on her cheek, and found her skin damp, and clammy.  He bolted upright and that sudden movement had caused May Alice to wake.  “What?”  She asked, sleepily.

“I . . . I don’t know,” he stammered. “Do you feel okay?”

“I feel awful, actually.  Why?”  He took a moment to try to convince himself otherwise, but quickly decided he was probably right.

“I think you’re in labor,” he said, jumping from the bed, and flipping on the bedroom light.  She squinted with the harshness of it, and convinced herself she’d not just heard those words.  He moved to her side of the bed and began trying to roust her fully awake.  “You in pain?”

“No, not that,” she said, helping him to help her sit upright.  “I just feel . . . sick.  Honey, I’m sure it’s just something I ate, or I’m over tired,” she was making excuses, but the truth, they both knew was, she was due any day.  Rennie was panicking; he wanted to move in three directions all at once.

“I’ll call the doctor.  No, I’m going to get Chantelle.  You stay here,” he commanded absently, as he ran out of the bedroom to summon Chantelle.

 _No, I think I’ll just get up, and go for a run,_ she thought, trying to calm herself with her sarcasm.  She recalled that her doctor warned she might not know when she went into labor, which at the time, she had taken as being the only positive thing she could look forward to as a paraplegic.  _Well, that, and high heels,_ she reminisced.  _I should have known I’d not get off that easily,_ she thought now, still feeling nauseous, and realizing the perspiration visible on her skin.  She reached for her belly, which in spite of being nine months pregnant, was still not quite as large as a basketball.  She had gained eighteen pounds with her pregnancy, and all of it was in her abdomen.  Her twice a week swim regimen had been the only exercise she could keep up in those last few months, so, it kept her from gaining a lot of weight, but gave her ample appetite enough to keep the baby growing and healthy.  She was comforted by the touch, and she patted it assuring the child she had everything under control.  She prayed that would remain the case.

In the weeks leading to her due date, her physician had consulted with another ObGyn in New Orleans who specialized in paraplegic births.  They had both encouraged May Alice and Rennie to consider C-section over a vaginal birth, in her case.  The specialist had explained, not only might she not feel when she was going into labor, but also, once in full labor, pushing, when not feeling a contraction was problematic.  The specialist had his share of paraplegic births that had started vaginally, only to have to rush to C-section.  With May Alice’s age, he simply believed they should take the guess work out, and plan the procedure.  It certainly sounded less stressful for the baby, May Alice thought, so they had easily agreed.

Rennie and Chantelle returned to the room, and Chantelle began assessing May Alice’s condition.  Quickly, she surmised May Alice had not simply had a bad meal, she felt sick because she was in labor.  She directed Rennie to get dressed, while she helped May Alice do the same.  She assured him they had time to contact the doctor and get May Alice to the hospital.  Regardless, Rennie dressed in record time, and ran to the phone to contact Dr. McGrath.  The service answered and confirmed the doctor would be paged, and would contact Rennie.  In the meantime, he dialed the, ever-helpful, Mrs. Flowers, who had agreed a few weeks before, to watch the kids when the time came for May Alice to deliver.  While the relationship between Arlene and her family had continued to improve, May Alice could not fathom the level of awkward in having Arlene sit with the kids, while she was giving birth to her ex-husband’s child.  Fortunately, the kids didn’t question the decision, and Arlene hadn’t approached it either.  Perhaps, Arlene thought Chantelle would be the obvious choice, not knowing that May Alice, also couldn’t fathom, not having Chantelle with her during such a medically challenging time.

Within the hour, Mrs. Flowers had arrived at the home to greet six excited kids, one confused puppy, a nervous Rennie, and one, very uncomfortable, pregnant paraplegic.  Dr. McGrath had returned the call and was in route to the hospital at the same time as Rennie, Chantelle and May Alice.  The car ride did nothing to help May Alice’s nausea, and she was in considerably worse shape than when she’d been awakened that morning.  Chantelle assured her it was just her body’s way of reacting to the contractions. 

The rest of the morning was nothing but a blur to May Alice.  By the time she’d been admitted, the perspiration was causing chills, and simultaneously, she was hot.  She had never been more uncomfortable, and she was having serious, second thoughts about having this baby.  She barely recalled the preparation for the C-section, and by the time they’d anesthetized her, she was feeling only slightly better with the IV fluids they’d started her with.  She tried to relax, listening to the many voices, blinded by bright lights, feeling something cold on her forehead, and someone holding her hand.  She felt pressure, something pushing from below her abdomen, and surmised, they must be starting the cutting.  She took a deep breath, squeezed the hand she assumed was Rennie’s, and started a small prayer for all of them.  Just as she relaxed, everything changed.  Instantly, she could feel nothing, no pressure, no movement, no hand in her own; something was wrong, and she began to panic.  She tried to speak but was gripped by paralysis that now seemed to have spread to her upper body.  She opened her eyes wide, and saw Rennie.  He looked worried, but she couldn’t speak, there was something covering her mouth.  The lights were blinding, and all she could see were figures, many of them, all moving around her.  As suddenly, her ears were met with a cacophony of sounds.  She could make out words like blood pressure, heart rate, distress, and again, she looked over toward Rennie who was gone.  She tried to raise her head but couldn’t.  In full panic mode, she was trying to scream when everything went black.

“Rennie, we have to leave, come on,” Chantelle was saying to him.  He understood, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.  She pulled him harder and said, “We’re in the way, let them do their work.”

The next thing he knew, he was in a small waiting room, just off the side of the O.R., with Chantelle.  Her face was as twisted with worry as his whole body was.  “What happened?” He finally asked.

“They might have nicked something when they cut, but it’s not uncommon, I think,” she tried to offer to calm them both. 

“There was so much blood,” Rennie trailed off.

“There’s a lot of blood in delivery anyway.”

The next thirty minutes were the worst of Rennie’s life.  They crawled by without a word from the O.R., leaving his mind to imagine every horrible scenario possible.  When he was about to burst from frustration and fear, the door of the small room finally opened, and a nurse appeared, still fully engulfed in scrubs.  She had removed her mask, however, to relay information to Rennie and Chantelle.  “The baby is fine; you can see him shortly, and Mrs. Boudreaux will be okay; she has been stabilized.”  It was not the full relief he’d hoped for, but it was something.  He tried to pay attention to the nurse’s follow up words as she went on to explain.  He recalled, she said something about the strength of May Alice’s abdominal muscles having made cutting through a little more difficult than Dr. McGrath was used to.  As he cut through, several monitors began to ping, one showing May Alice’s heart rate surging, and another showing the infant going into distress.  That’s about the time he and Chantelle were ordered out of the O.R., he surmised.

The full detail Rennie was too worried to take in fully, included that, it was believed, at that time that Dr. McGrath had nicked, either the infant, or possibly, one of May Alice’s organs, as Chantelle had suggested.  May Alice’s heart rate surged, which caused more blood loss than anticipated.  As they worked to stem the blood flow, and get to the infant, they discovered the child had not moved into the birth canal, prevented by the umbilical, that had wrapped around the head and neck.  Dr. McGrath made several adept cuts to the umbilical, quickly freeing the infant, and eliminating its distress.  The baby was removed, and triaged, while the doctor continued to explore the reason behind May Alice’s continued bleeding.  He discovered he had, in fact, nicked her bladder.  They were able to repair it quickly.  They gave her a unit of blood, and immediately her pressure, and heart rate stabilized.  They were just closing her up as the nurse had been released to update Rennie and Chantelle.  She explained the prognosis, and they were certain, with a little extra care, no permanent damage would result to the bladder function, and May Alice would make a full recovery in a matter of weeks. 

She asked if they had any questions but before they could answer, another nurse entered the room with a noisy little bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.  She introduced Rennie to his second son.  As he held the child, and tried to assure him everything was going to be all right, the O.R. nurse told Chantelle it was a small miracle that the child had not moved into the birth canal, as the lack of movement likely kept the umbilical from strangling the child along the way.  She speculated that May Alice’s immobility is what kept the movement from happening.  “Some crazy irony, don’t you think?”  She asked Chantelle, who was still, so overwhelmed by the events of the last few hours, that she could only nod at the woman in response.

May Alice awoke with a start, gasping audibly with the fear that had gripped her with her last memory.  She was experiencing a horrific déjà vu; reliving the first moment she’d awoken, following the surgery that stabilized her spine after her accident, over two years earlier.  This time however, she was greeted by the sight of Rennie, smiling and holding something in his arms.  The vision quickly helped reassure her, and while her heart was pounding in her chest, at least, she could feel it.

“Someone’s been waitin’ to see you,” he said, as he tilted the bundle toward her, and exposed a tiny sleeping infant.  Her panic vanished, and she was overcome with a new emotion as she reached for them.  Rennie bent down to her and placed the baby on her chest and helped her wrap her arms securely around him. 

May Alice stared at the child.  Her child.  From that first moment, when she laid eyes on her son, she realized the answer to the only question in life she’d never been able to answer. _What did everyone expect me to be?_   She’d always believed, if she found the answer, she would not only know her place in the world, but also, her purpose in it.  To realize, in that moment, that the solution included two, separate answers, was an epiphany.  Her place was at Rennie’s side, she’d felt that from the moment they were married.  But seeing her son, for the first time, she knew her purpose, was to love him with every fiber of her being. “He’s a boy,” Rennie said after a moment.

“I know,” she said smiling, with tears flowing from her eyes, as she looked up at Rennie for a brief moment.  She answered Rennie’s questioning look, “I saw it on the sonogram,” she said, almost absently, as she returned her gaze to the infant, and stroked his cheek with her finger.  Rennie continued with his inquisitive expression, which went unseen, but she reminded him, “You said you’d wait and be surprised, remember?  Well . . . surprise,” she said to both of them.  Rennie chuckled, and immersed himself in the sight before him.  May Alice’s smiling eyes, riveted and glowing over their child.  He’d experienced that same intensity in her eyes, less the tears, the day she’d married him.  Like that day, he now watched the same deep, green passion, bore into their child with a look that conveyed nothing but love and hope.  It would remain another one of those moments etched into his mind, one that he would recall, often, for many years to come.

In the hours that followed that day, she would learn the origin of her jumbled, terrifying memories from the morning, the distress of the delivery, and the additional trauma to her body.  She was encouraged by Chantelle’s assurance that she would see to her recovery, just like she had seen her through her transition to life in a wheelchair, and through a very unlikely pregnancy.  All the children had been retrieved, and brought to the hospital later that evening, all eager to meet their baby brother, and see May Alice, who they’d all come to realize, in her absence that day, was sorely missed.  They’d not heard yet about the problems she’d be recovering from, Rennie wanted them to focus on the happiness of the day, not the worrisome. 

May Alice had just finished feeding the infant for the first time when the clan arrived.  She was exhausted, and in some pain from the incision.  She had refused the pain medication in order to be able to breast feed her child.  She wasn’t so sure then, that she could keep that up for long.  Still, she forgot all of that when the family entered the room.  The girls were giddy, and trying to be quiet, but unable to fully control their excitement.  Jaxon was smiling, something he’d been doing since he heard the news he’d no longer be the only brother in the house.  As they all gathered around the bed, and the baby in May Alice’s arms, May Alice noticed immediately Elizabeth was hanging back from them.  She was with Rennie, near the door.  She was an adorable sight, May Alice thought, standing quietly with one hand in Rennie’s, a pensive look on her face, and her other hand holding her ever-present bunny.  May Alice smiled at her and watched as Elizabeth returned a small smile of her own.  After a few minutes with the others doting over the baby, Rennie moved to take the infant from May Alice, with the intent of taking him to greet the, still contemplative, Elizabeth, but she ran past him as he approached, and reached instead, for May Alice in the bed.  The kids all laughed over the pass and Chantelle lifted her up so she could hug May Alice.

They kissed each other, and Elizabeth whispered to her, as she held her around her neck, “A Saint Bernard told me in my sleep, you would be okay, but I was so worried about you.”  The thought of a big dog talking to Elizabeth in her sleep made May Alice laugh little, but she hoped it had kept her from worrying too much.  In the chaos of the morning, she had left without having said goodbye to Elizabeth, something that rarely happened.  She was fine now, regardless, and she appeared finally ready to meet her new baby brother.  She climbed down off the bed, leaving the bunny with May Alice and approached her father.  Rennie knelt down and tilted the bundle toward her to see.  She stroked the baby’s cheek with her finger and the infant opened his eyes a little and a tiny fist raised up from the folds in his blanket.  She touched it, and gasped a little, when the baby wrapped his own fingers around one of hers.  She laughed a little then, and turned to the others and asked the obvious thing no one had yet. “What’s his name?”

Rennie stood up then, and moved back beside May Alice, and admitted he didn’t know.  He looked to May Alice and said, “But I suppose you do, huh?” he smiled.

“Well . . . I wasn’t sure, until I saw him,” she said, once again staring at the baby.  After a moment, she looked at Rennie and said, “How do you feel about,” and, she uttered two of the names she’d most liked.  Rennie knew the significance behind both, and he couldn’t have agreed more easily.

Landry Everett Boudreaux had entered the world April 13, 1994 a seven pound, seven ounce, perfectly healthy baby boy.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Her second day in the hospital, May Alice had less pain and, already, her bladder showed signs of normal function.  Barring any set back, she would be on track to take Landry home with her the following day which was a blessing on many levels.  She didn’t sleep well in the hospital, the mattress was too thin, the linens were rough, Rennie was absent, and she hated being apart from the baby.  If she had to be this tired, she mused, she might as well be at home, in comfort, and closer to Rennie and the newborn.  Just as the fatigue began to push her into feeling sorry for herself, Rennie entered the room with Elizabeth happily in tow.  It was his second trip that day to see her; he’d arrived early in the morning while Chantelle readied the kids for school, and sat with May Alice while she’d fed Landry.

He looked tired too, but far less worried than he had the day before.  Rennie kissed May Alice and commented she looked weary.  She admitted she was, having just completed another feeding.  Rennie asked Elizabeth if she wanted to go to the nursery with him to see her brother but she said no, she wanted to nap with Mama.  He situated Elizabeth next to May Alice on her bed, and left the two as they whispered hello’s, and as Elizabeth filled May Alice in on the morning she’d missed at home.  After they’d finished talk about home, Elizabeth began scanning the room.  She commented on the flowers perched on the ledge on the opposite wall from the bed.  May Alice pointed to each arrangement and said who had sent them.  Soon they’d both slipped off to sleep.  Rennie returned about twenty minutes later and sat beside the bed where he, too, nodded off quickly.

The trio was awakened a little while later, when May Alice’s nurse arrived to check on her incision.  After passing inspection, May Alice asked Rennie to help her into her wheelchair.  Her back had been hurting and she needed to move some.  She’d been ready to enjoy freer movement, without the small basketball that had been invading her lap the past few months, but in moving, she recalled she’d not planned for the bulk to have been replaced by soreness and pain.  _Small price_ , she reminded herself, as she sat into the familiar chair.  Rennie suggested they take a stroll outside, as it was sunny and spring was fully in the air. 

As they exited the large doors in the back of the hospital, they entered a beautiful garden area, complete with a large fountain, and budding trees, and shrubs all around.  To the side of the fountain were large statues of Catholic saints.  As they wheeled past each, Elizabeth looked up to peruse each face.  They’d just passed the second statue, that of St. Bernadette, in which Elizabeth commented she didn’t know Saints could be girls.  She hadn’t meant female, rather, that the youth depicted in the statue was not one she’d seen before.  May Alice shared a brief explanation about the reason for that.  As they approached the third statue, Elizabeth, just a little in front of the others, started her gaze at the base of that statue and looked up slowly.  As she reached the face, she froze in place.  Rennie and May Alice stopped, curious about what had her so mystified.  Elizabeth turned to face them and then pointed up at the statue.  “Saint Bernard,” she said with a smile, “that’s him.”

Rennie and May Alice looked at the name plate below the statue where it described, ‘Saint _Gerard_ Majella, Paton Saint of Expectant Mothers.’  Rennie chuckled about Elizabeth’s mispronunciation of the name, and May Alice would have also, if she’d not been so overwhelmed by the bigger implication of what the girl had said to her about Saint “Bernard”, and his having spoken to her in her dream.  A chill ran through May Alice’s skin and her hands began shake realizing what she believed to have occurred.  Elizabeth, seeing the look on May Alice’s face, asked her if something was wrong.  “No,” she said, trying to steady her hands, and blinking hard to keep tears at bay, “Not at all, Sweetheart.  Did your Maw tell you about Saint Gerard?”  she asked, thinking that was a more logical explanation than what she was interpreting.

“No.  Does Maw know him?”  She asked.

“Oh, she may.  I just thought . . .,” she didn’t know how to finish, so, she didn’t.

Rennie, not having known anything about Elizabeth’s dream, misread May Alice’s physiological reaction as being pain, or fatigue, and in his worry, disregarded the exchange, and knelt to assess her.  She realized he was worried about her and couldn’t have known the reason for her reaction.  She felt terrible for making him think anything was awry.  She assured Rennie that she was fine.  She kissed his cheek and whispered a promise to explain it all to him later.  Her hands had stopped shaking.  Rennie knew she would not lie to him about her health, so, he placed a kiss on her knuckles, and released her hand.  He stood, returned to the back of May Alice’s chair, and asked if the girls were ready to move on.  Both said yes. 

They finished their tour of the garden and returned to the room in just enough time to get May Alice back into the bed before Rennie needed to leave.  He was intent on helping Chantelle get dinner for the kids, who should just be about to return from school.  He said he would return later in the evening.  “To tuck you in,” Elizabeth added to his sentence, which caused a round of laughter from the adults. 

“What?” Elizabeth asked honestly, not knowing why they found that funny.  As the father and daughter left the room, May Alice was visited by the familiar rush of contentment she’d had throughout her pregnancy.  It enveloped her and calmed her.  She revisited her thoughts about Elizabeth’s experience with Saint Gerard, and she decided, rather than dissecting the implications, she accepted, and thanked Saint “Bernard” for his blessings upon her and her children.


	48. 48

**Chapter 48**

When Rennie returned to hospital Thursday night, he learned that May Alice would need to remain in the hospital one additional day.  A slight fever showed up and antibiotics were a must.  By Friday evening, however, the doctor had given her approval to leave, the following day.  Being a Saturday, the kids were thrilled they would be home when Landry and May Alice arrived.  They’d all done well in her absence, but they were nervous about her delayed return home, and Rennie hated seeing them like that.  He’d always tried to shelter them from anything his life inflicted upon them, but he was beside himself with apprehension about May Alice, and he didn’t have the strength to hide it from his children.

As soon as Rennie was ready to leave the house that Saturday morning for the hospital, the kids had told him they’d be going to the library, as usual, with Arlene.  In fact, that was a tiny lie.  When they’d learned on Friday, that Miss Ma and Landry, weren’t coming home until the next day, they, along with Chantelle, decided a welcome home party was in order.  The party topic served to keep their minds off Rennie, and his visible worry, and provided a happier focus.  They’d made a covert trip to Woolworth’s after school on Friday and collected streamers, balloons, a “Welcome Home” and a “It’s a boy” banner.  They’d picked up cupcakes from Poupart’s Bakery, adorned of course, with blue frosting and tiny baby bottles made of pressed sugar.  The bakery even had a doggie cupcake that they got for Brutus.  The moment Rennie’s truck left the driveway, the bags were ripped open, and the decorating began both inside, and outside on the front porch.  One stray balloon ended up tied to the boat dock, Jaxon’s contribution.  He’d gotten a little sidetracked during the decorating, and curiously ended up on the dock.

Rennie closed the passenger door of his truck, having secured both May Alice, and baby Landry in a manner he felt mostly safe with.  He was apprehensive about taking them home from the hospital in his truck, but the van had needed a new water pump and wouldn’t be out of the shop for another day.  The lumbering work truck was hardly ideal for securing a baby seat, but they made due, and Rennie may have been the slowest driver on any road in all of Louisiana, that day.  As they drove along, May Alice was asking about where the kids were, so, the subject of Arlene came up.  Rennie had forgotten, in the frantic hours of the past three days that he had some big gossip to share.

“Arlene is dating,” he said.

“What?!  Oh my God, who?”

“Charlie Milton.”

“ _I knew it_ , I told you!”  She laughed. 

She’d met Charlie, once, at the Mardi Gras celebration at St. John’s in February.  She and Rennie had agreed to drop off the kids at the Church.  Just before they’d found the booth Arlene was helping run, and where they’d pass off the kids for her to take them around the carnival, they’d run into Charlie.  Although, to May Alice, he seemed a little anxious when Rennie introduced him to her, he did seem an amiable enough fellow.  He tagged along, speaking with Rennie, and even to the kids, until they arrived at the booth.  The smile Arlene and Charlie produced for one another when he’d arrived with them, was the “tell”, for May Alice.  She had only seen Arlene smile a handful of times, and that one fell more easily than any she’d witnessed in the past.  She’d mentioned it to Rennie after they left the kids but he’d brushed it off, agreeing that Charlie was quite personable, and he reasoned, he’d simply recalled the kids from the plumbing project at Christmas.

 _“You don’t think it interesting, that of all the carnivals, in all of Lafayette, this is the one he happens to be at?”  She’d asked, that day._ She didn’t recall, on this day, his answer, but she recalled having added something to the effect of _not being too surprised if there were to be another wedding in the kids’ future._   At the time, she’d thought she was probably exaggerating, but in the couple months since, the kids had made mention of Charlie more than once.  “So how do you feel about that?” she asked Rennie.

“Aw, I don’t think anything of it, I guess.”

“Really?  Nothing?  Nothing,” she challenged.

“Well, no.  I mean, it’s good; he seems like a good guy, a good worker, and, yeah. . . It’s good,” he decided. 

She looked at Landry, and said to him, “I think he’s saying, he thinks it’s good,” she teased.

As they neared the house, they’d moved on from the gossip, and May Alice was becoming excited about seeing the kids; she’d been so tired, and so busy with Landry, she’d forgotten how much she missed them.  She had also been imagining the moment she would lay her child in his homemade crib for the first time.  In the months since they’d placed it next to their bed, she had memorized every inch of it.  Lost in the thought of placing the infant’s delicate body down on the soft, new linens she’d purchased for the crib, she fell silent.

The truck reached the entrance of the long driveway to the house and Rennie realized May Alice had stopped talking.  Knowing well, the way down his favorite tree lined drive, he was confident enough to look away from the road to her.  He saw an ethereal look gracing her face, and he immediately recognized it.  He turned his eyes back to the driveway, and slowly put his foot on the brakes, overwhelmed at scene unfolding before him.  Time seemed to be happening in slow motion.  There was a spring breeze pulling the recently, bloomed, cottony-white blossoms from the dogwood trees across his path.  As the delicate flowers wafted in the wind across the drive, it looked like . . . _snow._  

He was living what once, was only a dream.  _May Alice’s driveway before him, it’s familiar and welcoming dogwood trees lining both sides, approaching the house in his truck, mesmerized by the flakes falling in his path . . . he felt happy, and like he was arriving for some designated festivity he couldn’t quite remember. . . he looked to his right, and saw May Alice sitting beside him, smiling at him. . . it appeared to be snowing, and her long hair was blowing across her face.  He reached for her face to stroke her cheek . . ._ To his eternal happiness, that time, it was no longer a dream.  The happy festivity, that escaped him in his dreams, he now knew, was his return with his wife and child to the house he’d always felt some part of, and this time, when he reached for her face to stroke her cheek, she was warm and he was very much awake.  Reveling in the imagery before him, he leaned over Landry and kissed May Alice sweetly on the lips.  Time returned to its natural pace, and he restarted their ascent down the drive to their home, and to their family. 

**0-0-0-0-0**

May Alice would not remember that particular day with the same significance Rennie would, but she had many other days she would revisit in the years to come.  What she would remember about that time, in general, was that it was the beginning of the happiest her home had ever been, and it would remain a place of love, and healing for many generations to follow.  She believed to her core, that was what her mother and father would have wished for her, because she knew it is what she wanted for her own family.  If it was their final lesson for her, she learned it well, and lived it, thoroughly, through her dying breath.

 

 

**The End**

**Thank you for reading!**

 


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